THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


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OUR  VILLAGE 

HflUALR  COLLECT 


IN 


WAR-TIME. 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF 

ALLAN  CAMERON,  ILVERTON  RECTORY, 

ETC. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE 
AMEKICAN   TKACT   SOCIETY, 

150  NASSAU-STREET,  NEW  YORK. 


The  incidents  in  the  follcAving  narrative  are  real,  and 
have  actually  occured  in  the  present  struggle  for  our 
national  life,  though  not  precisely  in  the  order  here  indi- 
cated. Liberty  has  been  taken  in  locating  and  arranging 
them,  and  names  and  places  are  assumed. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S64,  by  the 
Americas  Tract  Society,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court 
of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
The  Beach  3iD  aeighborhood 7 

CHAPTER  II. 
The  Soldiers'  Aid  Society 17 

CHAPTER  in. 
The  departure  of  the  regiment -    35 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  drummer-boy  of  the  Twenty-sixth 50 

CHAPTER  V. 
How  the  boys  came  home 80 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Lights  and  shadows 102 


603130 


OUR  VILLAGE  IN  AVAR-TIME. 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE  BEACH  HILL  NEIGHBOKHOOD. 

"Would  you  believe  it,  Mrs.  Glenn, 
the  Tyrrell  House  is  sold,  and  a  family  is 
going  to  move  into  it  right  away  ?  The 
painters  and  carpenters  have  been  there 
for  a  week.  I  did  n't  know  the  house,  it 
looked  so  lively.  It  seems  too  bad  to 
havevthat  place  shut  up  from  the  public, 
for  we  all  enjoyed  it  so  much ;  but  I  sup- 
pose the  owner  had  the  best  right  to  it, 
after  all.  I  have  n't  found  out  who  the 
family  are,  but  I  shall  hear  all  about  it 
to-morrow,  and  then  I  will  let  you  know ; 
for  Aunt  Prudence  is  going  there  to  clean 


6  OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

the  rooms,  and  get  them  ready  for  the 
furniture." 

As  Miss  Letty  paused  to  take  breath, 
I  expressed  my  interest  in  the  news, 
which,  to  confess  the  truth,  had  affected 
me  rather  unpleasantly. 

The  Tyrrell  House  was  the  "show- 
place  "  of  Beach  Hill,  a  rambling,  aristo- 
cratic mansion,  \milt  by  a  wealthy  Eng- 
lishman, who,  after  a  series  of  domestic 
troubles,  shut  up  the  house  in  disgust, 
and  left  the  country.  It  was  his  wish 
that  no  one  should  reside  there ;  conse- 
quently the  house  was  out  of  repair,  and 
the  extensive  grounds,  laid  out  originally 
by  a  landscape  gardener,  were  overrun 
with  weeds.  Still  it  was  a  lovely  spot, 
and  the  dwellers  on  the  hill  held  annual 
picnics  there,  and  lovers  strolled  through 
its  shaded  walks  by  moonlight,  and  alto- 
gether we  had  come  to  look  upon  it  as 
public  property,  held  for  our  special  ben- 

m 

fid) 


BEACH  HILL  NEIGHBORHOOD.  1 

efit.  Great  was  our  astonishment,  there- 
fore, when  we  heard  that  the  house  had 
been  purchased,  and  was  fitting  up  for  a 
family,  who  were  to  take  immediate  pos- 
session. It  was  felt  by  us  almost,  as  a 
personal  loss ;  and  woe  to  the  new-comers, 
should  they  fail  to  atone  by  the  charms 
of  their  society  for  the  deprivation  we 
were  to  suffer. 

Not  that  we  were  an  inhospitable  or 
quarrelsome  set  of  people.  On  the  con- 
trary, we  prided  ourselves  on  the  posses- 
sion of  the  opposite  qualities.  If  there 
were  in  the  town  of  Woodbury  a  model 
neighborhood,  we  believed  it  to  be  located 
on  Beach  Hill.  Ours  was  a  very  select 
society,  reckoning  among  its  members 
the  clergyman,  lawyer,  doctor,  and  ed- 
itor of  the  town,  and  a  number  of  gentle- 
men of  wealth  and  leisure,  as  well  as 
some  who  led  the  dubious  sort  of  exist- 
ence called  "living  by  one's  wits."     We 


8  OUK  VILLAGE  IN  WAR-TIME. 

assumed,  however,  no  airs  of  superiority 
over  our  townsmen,  but  were  content  to 
manifest  our  self-complacency  by  a  qui- 
etly patronizing  manner  whenever  we 
met  them.  In  such  a  community  as  this, 
it  may  be  supposed  the  arrival  of  a  new 
family  was  quite  an  event,  particularly  as 
they  were  about  to  occupy  the  best  house 
in  the  town. 

The  next  day  I  was  very  busy  at  home, 
and  had  forgotten  the  coming  event,  when 
just  at  evening  Miss  Letty  made  her  ap- 
pearance, every  line  of  her  face  instinct 
with  news  which  her  tongue  was  eager  to 
communicate. 

Miss  Letty  Brown  was  the  dressmaker 
par  excellence  of  the  town  of  Woodbury ; 
and  though  we  of  the  Hill  had  tried  hard 
to  appropriate  her,  it  was  found  an  im- 
possibility, so  we  were  fain  to  share  her 
services  with  the  inhabitants  of  the  vil- 
lage.    She  was  a  cheerful,  active  little 


BEACH  HILL  NEIGHBORHOOD.  9 

woman,  of  an  uncertain  age,  with  a  fresh, 
breezy  atmosphere  always  about  her, 
which  stirred  one  very  pleasantly — a 
little  given  to  gossip,  yet  no  scandal- 
monger, but  a  sincere,  earnest  Christian, 
loving  God  and  her  fellow-men,  and  look- 
ing persistently  on  the  bright  side  of  ev- 
ery thing.  No  matter  how  dark  the  day, 
Miss  Letty  firmly  believed  in  the  sun- 
shine behind  the  clouds,  and  waited  for 
it  to  break  through.  Her  services  were 
in  constant  requisition  on  every  occasion ; 
and  as  she  was  brimming  over  with  what 
the  Yankees  call  "faculty,"  nothing  that 
skill  and  ingenuity  could  accomplish  came 
amiss  to  her. 

Hardly  was  the  neat  white  sun-bonnet 
laid  aside,  when  she  exclaimed, 

"Well,  it's  really  wonderful  how  things 
do  come  about  in  this  world.  There  7s 
old  Mr.  Tyrrell  thought  he  7d  cut  off  his 
daughter  with  a  shilling,  and  now  her 


10  OUK  VILLAGE   IN   WAK-TIME. 

grandson  has  come  into  possession  of  the 
house  and  land." 

"How  is  that?"  I  asked;  "  is  this  new 
family  connected  with  the  Tyrrells  ?" 

"Oh  yes;  Aunt  Prudence  has  told  me 
all  about  it.  Mr.  Fenton,  the  gentleman 
who  has  bought  the  property,  is  the  grand- 
son of  Emily  Tyrrell  that  was,  and  he 
has  lived  in  Alabama  a  great  many  years. 
It  seems  he  is  a  strong  Union  man ;  and 
when  this  rebellion  broke  out,  he  got  into 
trouble,  and  has  been  all  this  time  trying 
to  get  away ;  and  now  the  family  have 
come,  but  he  stays  behind  to  try  and 
save  some  more  of  his  money.  Mrs. 
Fenton  is  very  sick,  and  has  been  for  a 
great  while;  but  there  is  a  grown-up 
daughter  and  another  young  lady,  a 
niece,  who  is  said  to  be  an  heiress,  and  a 
son,  who  I  rather  think  is  in  the  rebel 
army,  though  there  is  n't  much  said 
about  it." 


BEACH  HILL  NEIGHBORHOOD.  11 

"Are  the  family  coming  immediate- 
ly?" I  inquired,  for  Miss  Letty's  account 
had  awakened  my  interest  in  these  refu- 
gees from  rebel  tyranny. 

"They  are  expected  every  day,  but 
I  ?m  sure  the  house  is  any  thing  but  ready 
for  them.  When  I  heard  about  the  poor 
sick  lady,  I  felt  like  taking  right  hold 
and  putting  things  to  rights ;  but  it  would 
not  have  been  taken  kindly  by  Aunt 
Prudence,  so  I  held  my  tongue.  Mrs. 
Ryder  and  Mabel  were  .there,  seeing  to 
the  furniture  and  pictures,  for  it  seems 
that  when  Mr.  Ryder  went  south  for  his 
health,  three  years  ago,  he  got  acquainted 
with  this  family,  and  that  is  the  way  they 
found  out  that  the  house  was  for  sale  and 
got  it.  There  was  quite  a  company  of 
Beach  Hill  people  there,  and  among 
the  rest  Robert  Lester,  the  fine-looking 
young  lawyer.  I  do  n't  often  take  a 
fancy  to  young  men — you  need  n't  smile, 


12         OUR  VILLAGE  IN  WAR-TIME. 

Nellie — but  I  do  like  that  young  man 
wonderfully.  There  's  something  so  no- 
ble about  him ;  and  yet  he  ?s  as  gentle  as 
a  woman." 

I  assented  cordially  to  Miss  Letty's 
praise  of  the  young  lawyer,  for  he  had 
been  a  favorite  of  mine  from  his  first  ap- 
pearance in  our  town.  He  was  alone  in 
the  world,  having  no  relatives  but  one 
sister,  who  was  at  a  boarding-school  at 
some  distance  from  Woodbury.  His  le- 
gal knowledge  and  splendid  powers  as  a 
speaker  made  him  a  marked  man  in  the 
community,  and  he  was  rising  rapidly  in 
his  profession,  while  his  private  charac- 
ter, so  pure  and  manly,  won  the  esteem 
and  friendship  of  all. 

Unlike  too  many  young  men,  Mr.  Les- 
ter had  not  been  ashamed  to  avow  him- 
self a  Christian  by  a  public  profession  of 
his  faith  in  Jesus ;  and  young  as  he  was, 
Mr.  Ryder  had  found  him  an  efficient 


BEACH  HILL  NEIGHBORHOOD.         13 

helper  in  every  good  word  and  work, 
while  even  infidels  and  scoffers  were  com- 
pelled to  admire  his  consistency  and  firm- 
ness of  principle. 

When  the  war  broke  out,  and  with 
thousands  of  others  the  young  men  of 
our  village  sprang  to  arms,  we  expected 
Kobert  Lester  would  be  one  of  the  first 
to  go,  for  all  knew  his  patriotic  devotion 
to  the  cause  of  liberty ;  but  to  our  sur- 
prise he  did  not  enlist,  though  he  look- 
ed sad  enough  when  the  first  company 
marched  away,  carrying  with  them  our 
best  wishes  and  prayers  for  their  success. 
He  was  not  a  man  whom  one  would  like 
to  question  about  his  reasons  for  any 
course  of  conduct,  so  we  waited  to  hear 
what  he  would  say,  but  he  said  nothing. 

The  second  company  went,  and  still 
no  word  from  him,  though  his  efforts  to 
promote  the  good  cause  were  laborious 
and  incessant.   There  was  some  mystery 


14  OUR  VILLAGE   IX  WAR-TIME. 

about  it,  for  when  urged  to  accept  the 
command  of  a  company,  he  replied  hastily, 

"Do  not  ask  it.  I  would  give  ten  of 
the  best  years  of  my  life  to  be  able  to 
say  yes,  but  I  cannot  go.  I  can  help  to 
send  others,  however,  and  that  I  am  do- 
ing with  all  my  heart.*' 

In  fact  his  purse  was  always  open, 
and  as  his  fortune  was  large,  the  streams 
of  his  benevolence  flowed  in  various  chan- 
nels, making  glad  many  a  heart  which 
the  war  had  made  desolate. 

Mr.  Ryder  our  excellent  minister,  Dr. 
Goodhue  our  physician,  and  Mr.  Reed, 
a  thin,  pale  young  man,  who  edited  the 
Woodbury  Chronicle,  were  all  of  opin- 
ion that  Mr.  Lester  had  good  reasons  for 
staying  at  home,  and  the  rest  of  us  were 
satisfied  to  adopt  their  belief,  though  we 
felt  that  he  had  lost  a  glorious  opportu- 
nity of  becoming  a  hero. 

Before  leaving,  Miss  Letty  informed 


BEACH  HILL  NEIGHBOKHOOD.        15 

me  in  confidence  that  the  new  family 
were  to  be  invited  to  the  meeting  of  the 
Soldiers'  Aid  Society  at  Mrs.  Atlee's, 
and  that  then  we  should  know  whether 
they  sympathized  with  the  government, 
or  were  at  heart  secessionists. 

"Not  that  I  think  there's  any  doubt 
about  it,"  she  said;  'J for  if  they  had 
liked  the  rebellion,  they  could  have 
staid  there,  you  know.  But  it  's  always 
best  to  have  things  clear,  and  it  's  hard 
to  satisfy  some  people." 

This  wTas  a  fact  which  could  not  be 
denied,  even  in  our  neighborhood,  and  I 
contented  myself  with  inquiring  if  any 
one  besides  Mr.  Ryder  had  seen  the 
Fentons. 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  had  my  thoughts 
about  it,  when  I  saw  Mr.  Lester  looking 
so  sharp  at  the  portraits  of  the  family 
which  are  hung  up.  There  was  one  of  a 
young  girl,  the  prettiest  thing  I  ever  set 


16         OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAB-TIME. 

eyes  on ;  it  was  so  beautiful  it  spoilt  all 
the  rest.  Her  eyes  were  just  like  stars, 
and  such  lovely  curls  of  brown  hair  fall- 
ing over  her  white  neck  and  shoulders  ; 
but  the  sweet  look  on  her  face  was  bet- 
ter than  all.  I  'm  sure  I  should  love  that 
girl,  and  I  guess  Mr.  Lester  thought  so 
too,  from  the  way  he  kept  going  back  to 
it  again  and  again,  as  if  he  could  n't  get 
away,  looking  all  the  while  so  melan- 
choly. One  thing  I  'ni  sure  of,"  added 
Miss  Letty  as  she  rose  to  go;  "that 
young  man  hasn't  got  any  thing  to  be 
ashamed  of ;  for  if  ever  there  was  an  hon- 
est and  brave  soul  looking  out  through  a 
face,  his  is  the  one,  and  I'd  trust  him 
with  the  last  cent  I  had  in  the  world." 

With  this  emphatic  declaration  Miss 
Letty  took  her  leave,  and  the  last  I  saw 
of  the  white  sun-bonnet,  it  was  disap- 
pearing among  the  shrubbery  at  the  par- 
sonage. 


SOLDIEKS'  AID    SOCIETY.  IT 

CHAPTER   II. 

THE   SOLDIEKS'  AID  SOCIETY. 

The  new-comers  were  at  length  set- 
tled in  their  pleasant  home.  The  neigh- 
bors had  all  called,  and  were  received 
with  a  courtesy  and  kindness  which  won 
golden  opinions  from  every  one. 

Mrs.  Fenton  was  a  confirmed  invalid, 
never  leaving  her  apartment ;  but  the 
peace  of  God,  which  like  a  river  flowed 
through  her  soul,  filled  the  room  with  sun- 
shine. In  early  life  she  had  been  a  proud, 
ambitious  woman,  valuing  wealth  and  so- 
cial distinction  above  all  things  else,  and 
anxious  only  that  her  children  should 
shine  in  the  circles  of  fashion  to  which  she 
belonged.  But  in  the  midst  of  her  career 
the  hand  of  God  was  laid  upon  her,  and 
in  the  solitude  of  a  sick-room  she  was 

Our  Village.  2 


18  OUR  VILLAGE   IN   WAR-TIME. 

forced  to  think.  Through  the  prayers 
and  efforts  of  a  faithful  Christian  friend 
she  was  brought  to  look  to  Jesus  for  par- 
doning and  healing  mercy,  and  after  a 
season  of  deep  mental  anguish,  during 
which  all  the  waves  and  billows  of  divine 
wrath  seemed  rolling  over  her,  she  found 
refuge  at  last  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and 
was  enabled  to  say  from  the  heart,  "I 
know  in  whom  I  have  believed." 

For  ten  years  since  that  hour  she  had 
been  confined  to  her  couch  with  a  hope- 
less disease,  often  racked  with  intense 
agony,  yet  always  the  same  patient,  un- 
complaining sufferer,  always  calm  and 
happy,  with  a  heart  full  of  love  and  pity 
for  every  form  of  human  sorrow.  By 
her  household  she  was  looked  upon  as  a 
guardian  spirit,  rather  than  a  helpless 
dependent.  Every  disputed  question 
was  referred  to  her  decision,  and  what- 
ever storms  invaded  the  domestic  circle, 


SOLDIERS'  AID    SOCIETY.  19 

"mother's  room"  was  always  a  place  of 
refuge,  which  seemed  to  her  children  the 
dearest  spot  on  earth. 

Elinor  Fenton  the  daughter  was  a  del- 
icate, graceful  girl,  inheriting  her  moth- 
er's gentleness  and  refinement,  but  with 
the  shadow  of  a  deep  sorrow  always  vis- 
ible on  her  sweet  face.  That  there  was 
a  son  we  knew,  but  nothing  was  ever 
said  of  him,  and  we  could  easily  believe 
that  his  desertion  of  the  Union  cause,  the 
uncertainty  of  her  father's  fate,  and  the 
illness  of  her  mother,  must  exert  a  de- 
pressing influence  on  one  so  young,  even 
before  we  heard  the  saddest  part  of  her 
story.  The  wealth  of  her  affections  had 
been  bestowed  on  one  who  seemed  fully 
worthy  of  them,  but  when  the  day  of  trial 
came  he  was  found  wanting.  He  was 
one  of  the  first  to  enter  the  rebel  army, 
and  his  influence  over  young  Fenton  had 
led  the  latter  to  adopt  the  same  course. 


20  OUK  VILLAGE   IN   WAR-TIME. 

Thus  doubly  bereft  of  lover  and  brother, 
the  young  girl  devoted  herself  to  her  suf- 
fering mother  ;  but  her  heart  was  open 
as  the  day  "  to  melting  charity, ''  and 
none  ever  appealed  to  her  in  vain  for 
sympathy  or  relief. 

When  I  first  went  to  the  house,  I  saw 
only  Mrs.  Fenton  and  Elinor,  but  my  in- 
terest in  both  was  so  much  excited  that 
the  call  was  soon  repeated,  and  on  my 
second  visit  Mrs.  Fenton  said,  to  her 
daughter, 

"Elinor,  where  is  your  cousin?  Go, 
my  love,  and  tell  Lilian  I  wish  to  see  her 
here." 

Elinor  left  the  room,  and  soon  return- 
ed, accompanied  by  a  young  girl  whom 
she  introduced  as  Miss  Grey,  and  in 
whom  I  recognized  the  original  of  the 
pleasing  portrait  I  had  seen.  She  was 
indeed  most  attractive  in  face  and  per- 
son ;  bright,  sparkling,  and  intellectual, 


SOLDIERS'  AID   SOCIETY.  21 

with  a  world  of  thought  and  feeling  -in 
her  full  hazel  eye,  shaded  by  long  silken 
lashes,  and  an  equal  amount  of  firmness 
and  energy  indicated  by  the  finely  mould- 
ed mouth  and  chin. 

After  paying  her  respects  to  me  as  a 
stranger,  she  seated  herself  on  an  otto- 
man by  the  side  of  the  couch,  and  tak- 
ing one  thin,  white  hand  of  the  invalid, 
laid  her  cheek  on  it  in  a  caressing  way, 
which  was  evidently  the  expression  of  a 
tender  and  loving  nature. 

"  And  what  has  my  Lilian  been  about 
all  the  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Fenton,  "that 
I  have  seen  nothing  of  her  before  ?" 

"  Oh,  dear  aunt.  I  have  been  very  busy, 
I  assure  you.  Yenus  wanted  me  in  the 
kitchen  a  while,  for  she  was  afraid  her 
preserves  were  in  danger  of  spoiling. 
Then  I  gave  little  Pete  his  daily  lesson ; 
and  last,  not  least,  had  to  prepare  some 
work  to  take  to  the  society  to-morrow." 


22  OUIt  VILLAGE   IN  WAK-TIME. 

"  Then  you  are  going  to  our  meeting?" 
I  said ;  "  I  arn  very  glad  to  hear  that,  for 
somehow  I  feared  we  should  not  have 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  young  ladies 
there." 

"You  do  not  know  our  Lilian,"  said 
her  aunt  fondly,  "or  you  would  have  no 
doubts  on  such  a  subject.  She  is  a  per- 
fect enthusiast  in  the  Union  cause,  and  I 
am  afraid  she  has  almost  wished  herself 
capable  of  bearing  arms  in  its  defence. 
However  that  may  be,  she  honors  a  sol- 
dier with  all  her  heart,  and  would  gladly 
devote  herself  in  any  way  to  do  him  good. 
As  for  my  Elinor,"  she  added,  turning 
with  a  smile  to  her  daughter,  "she  is  no 
less  loyal  than  her  cousin,  though  not 
quite  so  demonstrative"  naturally,  and 
tied  to  a  sick  mother  who  can  hardly 
live  without  her.  But  you  will  see  them 
both  to-morrow,  for  the  cause  is  dear  to 
us  all." 


SOLDIERS7  AID  SOCIETY.  23 

When  I  left  the  house,  Lilian  Grey 
accompanied  me  to  the  door,  and  taking 
my  hand,  said  with  a  frankness  that  was 
very  captivating, 

"Mrs.  Glenn,  my  aunt  has  taken  a 
great  fancy  to  you ;  and  if  there  were  no 
other  reason,  we  should  love  you  for  that. 
Now  I  want  to  ask  as  a  great  favor,  that 
you  will  take  Elinor  and  myself  under 
your  wing  to-morrow,  for  we  cannot  help 
dreading  the  battery  of  eyes  and  tongues 
that  we  must  encounter.  I  dare  say  you 
are  no  worse  here  than  other  people^  and 
perhaps  a  great  deal  better,  but  as  Ye- 
nus  says,  'There  's  no  accounting  for  hu- 
man nature,7  and  strangers  usually  have 
to  run  the  gauntlet  in  order  to  gain  the 
freedom  of  any  country  town." 

I  kissed  the  fair  cheek  that  was  glow- 
ing like  a  rose,  and  promised  my  best 
services  on  the  morrow. 

There  was  a  very  full  meeting  of  the 


24  OUR  VILLAGE    IN  WAR-TIME. 

Soldiers'  Aid  Society,  for  it  was  hoped 
that  the  strangers  would  attend,  and  all 
were  anxious  to  meet  them.  I  went  early, 
and  found  Mrs.  Eyder,  our  president,  and 
Miss  Letty  Brown  busied  in  cutting  and 
fitting  garments ;  while  in  the  two  rooms 
needles  and  tongues  were  equally  active. 
It  was  not  long  before  Miss  Fenton 
and  her  cousin  came  in,  for  they  had 
none  of  that  petty  pride  which  leads  its 
possessor  to  despise  punctuality  as  a  vul- 
gar virtue.  They  were  both  more  plainly 
dressed  than  most  of  the  young  ladies 
present ;  but  though  simple  and  unaf- 
fected in  manner,  there  was  an  innate 
dignity  and  refinement  about  them  which 
effectually  repelled  impertinence,  and  dis- 
appointed a  few  who  were  prepared,  in 
their  own  elegant  phraseology,  "to  find 
out  all  about  them ."  There  was  one  wom- 
an, however,  who  was  not  to  be  foiled  in 
this  determination. 


SOLDIERS'   AID    SOCIETY.  25 

Mrs.  Flint  was  the  widow  of  a  worthy 
man,  who  is  said  to  have  been  worried 
out  of  existence  by  his  disconsolate  part- 
ner, and  none  who  knew  her  could  ques- 
tion the  probability  of  such  a  catastrophe. 
Her  manner  was  always  deprecating ; 
her  step,  true  to  her  nature,  was  soft  and 
stealthy,  and  her  voice  carefully  modu- 
lated to  express  only  amiability;  but 
there  was  a  rigidity  about  the  thin  lips 
and  a  sharp  glitter  in  the  cold  blue  eye 
which  told  quite  another  story. 

Greatly  to  the  annoyance  of  our  good 
pastor  and  his  wife,  Mrs.  Flint  arrogated 
to  herself  the  office  of  adviser  in  all  mat- 
ters relating  to  the  church;  and  as  she 
could  talk  fluently,  and  call  up  tears  from 
some  hidden  fountain  on  all  proper  occa- 
sions, some  ignorant  people  looked  on  her 
as  quite  a  saint,  while  those  who  knew 
her  best  regarded  her  as  a  scheming,  dan- 
gerous woman,  the  female  counterpart  of 


2G  OUR  VILLAGE    IN  WAR-TIME. 

Bunyan's  Talkative.  She  had  exerted 
herself  to  the  utmost  to  get  the  manage- 
ment of  the  Society,  and  especially  of  its 
funds,  into  her  own  hands;  and  failing 
in  this,  had  left  us  in  disgust,  and  for 
months  had  not  attended  our  meetings, 
until  brought  out  by  curiosity  on  the 
present  occasion. 

Mabel  Ryder  had  drawn  Elinor  away 
into  a  circle  of  young  ladies  ;  but  Lilian, 
who  had  been  consulting  Miss  Letty  about 
her  work,  was  sitting  alone,  and  to  her 
Mrs.  Flint  cautiously  made  her  way. 
After  a  few  commonplace  remarks,  she 
said  in  her  softest  tone,  "I  am  very  hap- 
py to  see  you  here,  of  course,  but  I  hardly 
expected  that  you  Southerners  would  be 
willing  to  help  us  fight  against  your  own 
brethren." 

"I  don't  know,"  was  the  spirited  re- 
ply, "whom,  you  mean  by  my  brethren. 
I  am  an  American,  and  love  my  whole 


SOLDIEKS'  AID    SOCIETY.  27 

country  and  the  clear  old  flag  better  than 
my  life.  There  is  as  much  Northern 
blood  in  my  veins  as  Southern,  and  if  it 
were  not  so,  I  should  feel  just  as  I  do 
now.  No  one  could  be  any  thing  to  me 
who  wished  to  break  up  and  destroy  the 
best  government  ever  formed  by  man. 
I  never  see  a  soldier  who  has  fought  for 
his  country  without  feeling  as  if  I  wished 
to  speak  to  him  as  a  friend ;  and  I  count 
it  an  honor  to  do  any  thing,  no  matter 
how  humble,  that  can  add  to  his  comfort." 

The  dark  eyes  flashed  and  the  red  lips 
trembled  with  the  earnestness  of  her  feel- 
ings ;  and  any  one  but  Mrs.  Flint  would 
have  retired  from  the  field ;  but  she  only 
answered  with  perfect  coolness, 

"I  admire  your  patriotism,  but  when 
we  think  what  a  terrible  thing  war  is, 
and  how  many  precious  lives  are  thrown 
away,  we  cannot  help  being  willing  to 
do  any  thing  for  peace.7' 


28         OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

"I  do  not  consider  war  as  the  worst 
of  all  evils,"  replied  Lilian,  "dreadful  as 
it  is.  There  are  times  in  the  history  of 
all  nations,  when  liberty  can  only  be  pre- 
served by  fighting  for  it,  and  I  believe 
God  hates  a  guilty  peace,  even  more  than 
the  desolations  of  war.  Storms  are  very 
useful  and  salutary  things,"  she  added 
with  a  smile,  "though  they  often  make 
sad  havoc  of  property  and  life.  None 
can  mourn  more  than  I  do  the  loss  of 
the  glorious  dead,  who  have  fallen  in  the 
cause  of  freedom ;  but  it  is  far  better  to 
die  so  than  to  live  cowards  or  traitors." 

Clearly  there  was  nothing  to  be  made 
out  of  Lilian  Grey,  and  Mrs.  Flint  looked 
about  for  Elinor ;  but  Mabel  Eyder  was 
on  her  guard,  and  gave  no  opportunity 
for  an  attack  in  that  direction.  So  our 
Beach  Hill  diplomat  was  silent  for  a 
time,  but  during  the  afternoon  I  heard 
her  in   discussion  with  Miss  Letty  on 


SOLDIERS'  AID    SOCIETY.  29 

some  subject  which  seemed  to  interest 
the  latter  very  deeply.  I  only  caught 
the  conclusion  of  Mrs.  Flint's  remarks. 
"Such  things  seem  to  me  very  singular, 
to  say  the  least." 

"Well,  I'm  very  thankful  that  I 
haven't  the  faculty  of  seeing  singular 
things  that  some  folks  seem  to  have.  I 
always  thought  that  this  was  a  land  of  lib- 
erty, and  that  men  could  go  into  the  army 
and  fight,  or  stay  at  home  and  help  oth- 
ers to  go,  just  as  they  thought  right,  with- 
out being  called  to  an  account  for  it.  Mr. 
Lester  is  able  to  take  care  of  himself, 
and  does  n't  need  my  help  ;  but  I  hate 
this  mousing  round  after  characters,  just 
as  if  they  were  bits  of  cheese." 

"But  you  must  acknowledge/7  answer- 
ed the  purring  voice  again,  "that  there  's 
a  mystery  about  this  young  man,  and 
that  is  always  against  any  one." 

"Fiddlesticks   on  your   mystery.      I 


30  OUR   TILLAGE    IN   WAR-TIME. 

shan't  acknowledge  any  such  thing.  In 
the  first  place,  I  don't  call  every  thing 
a  mystery  that  I  can't  see  through  ;  for  if 
I  did,  there  'd  be  no  end  of  mysteries, 
seeing  I  can  understand  but  very  little. 
In  the  next  place,  supposing  there  is  a 
mystery,  it  may  be  a  good  one ;  for  I  sup- 
pose there  can  be  good  mysteries  as  well 
as  bad  ones  in  this  world." 

"I  have  been  told  on  very  good  au- 
thority," persisted  Mrs.  Flint,  "that  Mr. 
Lester  has  been  much  at  the  South,  and 
he  may  have  his  own  private  reasons  for 
not  wishing  to  fight  the  rebels." 

"And  if  he  has/'  replied  Miss  Letty, 
"I  dare  say  they  are  honorable  ones, 
and  if  they  satisfy  him,  I  don't  see  what 
business  'tis  of  ours.  When  I  get  a  per- 
son marked  down  in  my  book  as  pure 
gold,  I  a'n't  always  going  over  them  with 
a  magnifying-glass  to  see  if  I  can't  find 
a  flaw  somewhere.     If  there  are  things 


SOLDIERS'  AID    SOCIETY.  31 

about  them  I  do  n't  understand,  I  take  it 
for  granted  they  7re  of  a  piece  with  those 
that  I  do  understand,  and  so  it  never 
troubles  rue  a  bit." 

"I  know  he  is  a  great  favorite  of  yours, 
and  you  can't  see  any  faults  in  him  ;  but 
for  my  part,  I  never  had  clear  evidence 
of  his  being  a  Christian." 

"  And  pray,  what  kind  of  evidence  do 
you  want?77  inquired  Miss  Letty,  with  more 
asperity  of  tone  than  I  had  ever  heard 
from  her  before.    "If  humbly  trusting  in 
Christ,  feeding  the  hungry,  clothing  the 
naked,  and  taking  care  of  widows  and  or- 
phans, is  n7t  religion,  what  is?   Mr.  Lester 
is  always  on  hand  when  any  thing  good 
is  going  forward  in  the  church,  though  he 
does  n7t  pray  at  the  corners  of  the  streets, 
like  the  Pharisees,  nor  say  to  everybody, 
by  his  looks  and  actions,  '  See  how  good 
I  am.7     I  think  though,  that  he  follows 
his  Master  a  great  deal  nearer  than  some 


32  OUK  VILLAGE   IN  WAK-TIME. 

who  try  to  make  out  that  their  little  tal- 
low dip  is  a  splendid  Drummond  light. 
But  bless  me,  Mrs.  Flint,  you  're  sewing 
that  sleeve  in  wrong-side  out.  It  wont 
do  to  talk  about  our  neighbors  and  sew 
for  th£  soldiers  at  the  same  time." 

With  this  home-thrust  Miss  Letty  left 
the  room,  while  we  all  inwardly  rejoiced 
that  Mrs.  Flint  had  been  silenced  by  one 
whom  she  regarded  as  so  greatly  her  in- 
ferior. 

After  tea  all  work  was  laid  aside,  and 
the  gentlemen  one  after  another  came  in, 
until  the  rooms  were  filled,  and  the  even- 
ing was  spent  in  social  enjoyment,  It 
was  remarked  by  all  that  Eobert  Lester 
and  Miss  Grey  did  not  meet  as  stran- 
gers, though  there  was  evident  constraint 
in  the  manner  of  both.  Lilian  changed 
color,  and  seemed  about  to  retreat  when 
he  approached  her ;  and  on  his  part, 
though  remarkable  for  his  power  of  self- 


S0LDIEKS'  AID   SOCIETY.  33 

control,  there  was  something  in  his  ap- 
pearance none  had  ever  seen  before. 
They  had  evidently  known  each  other 
previously,  and  met  now  on  a  different 
footing  from  that  of  mere  acquaintance. 
A  dozen  pair  of  eyes  were  upon  them, 
and  the  situation  was  becoming  embar- 
rassing enough,  when  Elinor  Fenton  came 
to  the  rescue  of  her  cousin,  and  entering 
into  conversation  with  Mr.  Lester,  drew 
attention  from  Lilian,  who  took  refuge 
among  a  group  of  young  persons  sur- 
rounding the  piano. 

When  the  company  were  about  to  sep- 
arate, I  chanced  to  be  in  the  dressing- 
room,  when  as  Lilian  entered  the  hall  I 
heard  Mr.  Lester  say  to  her, 

"Lilian,  will  you  not  allow  me  to  ac- 
company you  home  ?" 

"Certainly  not,"  was  the  hasty  reply; 
"my  aunt  has  sent  the  carriage  for  us, 
and  I  prefer  riding  with  Elinor.'7 

Our  Village.  3 


31         OUR   VILLAGE    IN   WAR-TIME. 

"  Permit  me  at  least  to  see  you  to  the 

carriage,"  he  said  almost  humbly,  and  I 

'  felt  hurt  at  her  cold  rejection  of  his  offer. 

"There  is  no  necessity  for  it,"  she  said. 
"Pete  is  here,  and  he  is  accustomed  to 
the  duty." 

What  could  this  mean?  Of  all  the 
young  men  I  had  ever  known,  I  should 
have  selected  Eobert  Lester  as  the  one 
best  fitted  to  win  the  heart  of  such  a 
young  lady  as  Lilian  ;  yet  she  shunned 
him  and  repelled  his  attentions.  My 
thoughts  were  painfully  occupied  with 
the  subject  as  I  returned  home,  and  in 
my  dreams  that  night  the  two  were 
strangely  blended,  though  alwa}Ts  with 
some  invisible  barrier  between  them, 
which  I  sought  in  vain  to  discover  and 
remove. 


DEPARTURE  OF  THE  REGIMENT   35 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE  DEPAETUEE  OF  THE  EEGIMENT. 

Forts  Donalson  and  Henry  had  been 
taken  by  our  brave  soldiers  and  seamen, 
and  the  nation  was  in  a  fever  of  excite- 
ment and  joy.  But  recruits  were  wanted 
to  fill  up  the  wasted  armies  in  the  vari- 
ous departments,  and  the  work  of  enlist- 
ment went  rapidly  on  among  the  young 
men  of  our  neighborhood,  while  mothers, 
wives,  and  daughters  worked  day  and 
night  to  fit  out  the  beloved  ones  who 
were  so  soon  to  leave  us  for  the  seat  of 
war. 

Lilian  Grey  was  one  of  the  foremost  in 
this  noble  work,  and  four  of  the  soldiers 
in  company  A  of  the  26th  were  selected 
and  sent  out  by  her,  with  a  bounty  of 
three  hundred  dollars  each,  to  fight  for 


36         OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

the  cause  she  loved  so  well.  The  shadow 
on  Elinor's  fair  brow  deepened  day  by 
day,  as  news  came  of  terrible  battles  in 
which  soldiers  on  both  sides  fell  by  thou- 
sands ;  and  even  Mrs.  Fentoirs  faith  was 
sorely  tried  by  the  continued  absence  of 
her  husband,  from  whom  no  word  had 
ever  reached  her. 

Those  were  sad,  sad  days,  and  every 
heart  felt  the  oppression  as  the  hour  of 
parting  drew  near.  True,  "the  battle 
of  the  warrior,  with  confused  noise  and 
garments  rolled  in  blood,"  came  to  us 
softened  by  distance,  but  many  that  we 
loved  were  there  in  the  thickest  of  the 
fight,  and  others  were  going  whom  we 
might  see  no  more  on  earth.  But  it  was 
no  time  for  outward  expressions  of  sor- 
row, so  we  resolutely  forced  back  our 
tears,  and  smiled  on  our  brave  boys  and 
encouraged  them  with  words  of  comfort 
and  cheer,  when  our  hearts  were  dying 


DETAKTUEE  OF  THE  REGIMENT.   37 

within  us  as  we  thought  of  the  dangers  to 
which  they  were  to  be  exposed. 

It  was  expected  by  all,  that  on  this  oc- 
casion Robert  Lester  would  be  one  of  the 
first  to  offer  himself  to  his  country,  and  a 
commission  as  lieutenant-colonel  was  ac- 
tually made  out  and  sent  him  by  the  gov- 
ernor, with  the  flattering  request  that  he 
would  not  refuse  it.  But  his  answer  was 
the  same  as  before. 

"If  I  could  go  at  all,"  he  said  to  his 
friends,  "it  would  be  as  a  private  soldier; 
but  it  avails  not  to  speak  of  it ;  my  duty 
lies  at  home." 

Lilian  shunned-  him  more  resolutely 
than  ever,  and  once  said  in  his  hearing, 
"  If  I  were  a  man,  and  refused  to  go  when 
my  country  called  for  my  services,  I 
should  expect  to  be  driven  from  society, 
as  unworthy  the  love  of  woman  or  the 
esteem  of  my  fellow-men." 

"You  are  too  severe,  Lilian,"  said  the 


38         OUK  VILLAGE   IN  WAK-TIME. 

gentle  Elinor;  "there  are  many  other 
ways  of  serving  one's  country  besides 
fighting  for  it,  and  every  one  can  judge 
best  for  himself  what  his  duty  may 
be." 

There  was  a  look  of  intense  pain  in  the 
face  of  the  young  man  as  Lilian  spoke, 
but  he  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height, 
and  the  fire  in  his  eye  told  all  who  look- 
ed upon  him  that  whatever  the  cause 
might  be,  it  was  not  lack  of  courage 
which  kept  him  at  home. 

"A  thousand  blessings  on  you,  Miss 
Fenton,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice  to  Elinor 
soon  afterwards.  "Your  kind  heart  hes- 
itates to  condemn  even  where  it  dares 
not  approve.  You  can  never  know  how 
much  good  your  words  have  done  me, 
suffering  as  I  have  from  misunderstand- 
ing on  every  side." 

"You  must  pardon  dear  Lilian,"  she 
answered  in  the  same  tone;  "she  feels 


DEPARTURE  OF  THE  REGIMENT.   39 

very  strongly,  and  your  decision  has 
been  a  severe  disappointment  to  her." 

"Miss  Grey  can  never  need  any  one 
to  plead  her  cause  with  me,"  he  said  as 
he  turned  to  leave  the  room. 

A  few  days  before  the  departure  of  the 
regiment  Miss  Letty  came  to  my  house, 
her  face  beaming  with  smiles,  and  to  my 
inquiry  what  had  happened,  she  answered, 

11  So  much  has  happened,  I  don't  know 
where  to  begin  to  tell  you.  In  the  first 
place,  Mr.  Fenton  has  got  home  with  the 
rest  of  his  money ;  but  such  a  time  as  he 
has  had  to  get  it.  Why,  the  adventures 
of  Sinbad  the  sailor  were  nothing  to  the 
escapes  he  has  had  and  the  troubles  he 
has  been  in.  I  don't  think  he  is  much 
to  speak  of,  compared  with  the  rest ;  but 
that  isn't  what  I  am  thinking  about. 
The  best  of  all  is,  that  it  has  come  out 
why  Robert  Lester  couldn't  enlist  be- 
fore, and  now  he  has  joined  the  company 


40         OUR   VILLAGE   IN   WAR-TIME. 

as  a  private  soldier ;  but,  my  word  for 
it,  he  wont  be  one  long." 

"Are  you  at  liberty  to  state  the  rea- 
son V  I  inquired. 

"  Oh,  certainly.  It  seems  that  the 
rich  old  uncle  who  left  him  his  fortune, 
made  a  condition  in  his  will,  that  if  Kob- 
ert  died  without  heirs,  the  property  was 
to  go  to  another  cousin,  one  Dick  Satter- 
lee,  who  is  a  flaming  rebel.  Our  Mr. 
Lester  knew  that  if  he  was  killed,  all 
that  mint  of  money  would  go  right  into 
the  hands  of  the  Confederate  govern- 
ment, to  help  on  the  rebellion.  So  he 
thought  he  could  do  more  for  the  Union 
cause  with  the  money,  than  by  carrying 
a  musket  and  getting  shot  himself.  Be- 
sides, his  poor  little  sister  would  be  left 
without  any  friends,  and  poor  to  boot; 
so  he  just  made  up  his  mind  to  stand  it 
out,  and  let  everybody  misjudge  him  if 
they  would. 


DEPARTURE  OF  THE  REGIMENT.  41 

"Last  week  he  saw  in  the  list  of  killed 
in  some  battle,  the  name  of  his  cousin 
Eichard  Satterlee;  so  he  went  right  on 
to  find  out  all  about  it.  The  body  hadn't 
been  discovered,  but  everybody  said  he 
was  dead.  When  Mr.  Lester  came  back, 
he  waited  long  enough  to  make  his  will, 
and  then  enlisted ;  and  a  happy  looking 
man  he  was,  I  can  tell  you. 

"But  that  isn't  all.  He  was  once 
engaged  to  Miss  Lilian  Grey;  but  she 
was  so  angry  with  him  because  he  didn't 
go  into  the  army,  that  every  thing  was 
broken  off  between  them,  though  she 
loves  him  as  she  does  her  life,  and  he 
thinks  fall  as  much  of  her.  But  of  course 
it  will  all  be  made  up  now,  and  I  ;m  glad 
of  it,  for  they  are  just  exactly  suited  to 
each  other." 

When  I  had  expressed  my  surprise 
and  pleasure  at  the  good  news  brought 
by  Miss  Letty,  I  inquired  what  she  in- 


42         OUK   VILLAGE   IN   WAR-TIME. 

tended  to  do  about  little  Willie,  the 
son  of  a  deceased  sister,  to  whom  she 
had  been  a  second  mother  from  his  in- 
fancy. 

"Well,  there's  no  help  for  it,  I  sup- 
pose," she  answered,  while  a  cloud  flitted 
over  her  bright  face  ;  "  he  is  bound  to  go 
as  a  drummer-boy  with  the  regiment,  and 
I  can't  persuade  him  to  stay  at  home 
willingly,  though  he  says  he  wont  go 
without  my  consent,  It 's  well  his  poor 
mother  is  n't  living,  for  her  heart  would 
break  to  have  him  go,  such  a  baby  as  he 
is,  only  twelve  years  old.  But  I  must 
say  for  him,  he's  the  best  boy  I  ever 
saw,  and  the  men  all  love  him  so,  he  '11 
be  well  taken  care  of,  if  he  does  n't  get 
killed.  It 's  hard  for  me ;  but  I  've  got 
nothing  else  to  give,  and  though  it 's  like 
taking  the  heart  out  of  my  body,  I  '11  try 
to  do  it  cheerfully." 

Miss  Letty  was  sewing  at  the  Tyrrell 


DEPARTURE  OF  THE  REGIMENT.   43 

House  when  she  learned  from  Mr.  Eycler 
the  facts  in  relation  to  Robert  Lester,  and 
no  time  was  lost  by  her  in  Communicat- 
ing them  to  the  family.  Mrs.  Fenton 
and  Elinor  heard  with  thankfulness  that 
his  fame  was  publicly  cleared,  though 
they  had  never  doubted  that  it  would  be 
so  in  the  end. 

-.But  to  the  ardent  and  enthusiastic 
Lilian,  by  whom  he  had  been  so  bitterly 
condemned,  the  news  was  like  a  reprieve 
from  death.  She  threw  her  arms  round 
Miss  Letty's  neck,  exclaiming, 

"Oli,  you  are  the  best  and  dearest 
Miss  Letty  in  the  whole  world.  I  didn't 
think  any  thing  could  have  made  me  so 
happy." 

"Lilian,  dear,  you  forget,"  said  her 
aunt  in  her  gentle  tone. 

"Xo,  aunt,  I  forget  nothing,"  Lilian 
replied,  while  her  eyes  shone  through 
tears  liko  stars.     "I  know  we  are  sepa- 


44         OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

rated  by  my  own  rash  act,  and  I  shall 
honor  him  only  the  more  if  he  refuse 
again  to  see  me ;  but  I  am  glad  and  proud 
to  know  that  he  is  worthy  of  my  love,  or 
that  of  any  other  woman." 

The  days  fled  rapidly,  and  still  Mr. 
Lester  did  not  call  on  his  former  friends 
the  Fentons,  and  as  Lilian  went  out  much 
less  than  usual,  they  seldom  met.  He 
was  unwilling  to  try  to  exonerate  himself 
from  a  suspicion  which  he  felt  to  be  un- 
reasonable and  degrading,  or  to  sue  for 
a  return  of  the  love  he  had  never  forfeit- 
ed ;  and  Lilian,  though  she  would  gladly 
have  humbled  herself  at  his  feet  for  hav- 
ing doubted  his  honor  and  loyalty,  would 
not  take  the  first  step,  lest  her  motives 
should  be  misconstrued. 

Things  were  in  this  state  when,  on  the 
evening  before  the  departure  of  the  regi- 
ment, a  note  from  Elinor  Fenton  was 
received  by  the  young   soldier,   which 


DEPARTURE  OF  THE  REGIMENT.  45 

brought  him  quickly  to  her  side.  A  few 
words  of  explanation  passed  between 
them,  and  then  he  was  ushered  into  the 
library,  where  Lilian  was  busy  in  pre- 
paring packages  of  stationery  for  the 
knapsacks  that  were  scattered  about. 

That  interview  was  one  never  to  be 
forgotten  by  either  of  the  parties.  There 
were  confessions  to  be  made  on  both 
sides,  and  mutual  forgiveness  to  be  ex- 
changed; for  while  Lester  felt  that  he 
should  have  intrusted  to  the  woman  he 
loved  the  true  reasons  for  his  conduct, 
Lilian  insisted  that,  knowing  him  as  she 
did,  she  ought  never  to  have  doubted  his 
loyalty  under  any  circumstances.  They 
parted,  pledged  to  each  other,  and  Lilian 
accepted  as  a  sacred  legacy  the  charge 
of  Fanny  Lester,  in  case  of  a  contingen- 
cy which  her  heart  refused  to  contem- 
plate. 

The  dreaded  morning  came  at  last, 


46         OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAK-TIME. 

when  our  brave  boys  were  to  exchange 
the  comforts  and  endearments  of  home, 
for  the  hardships  of  the  camp  and  the 
horrors  of  the  battle-field.  Bat  a  solemn 
ceremony  remained  to  be  performed  be- 
fore they  went,  and  with  one  accord  the 
steps  of  all  were  turned  towards  the 
parsonage.  There,  in  the  pleasant  front 
yard,  under  the  shadow  of  the  tall  elms 
that  had  sheltered  her  childhood,  Mabel 
Ryder  gave  her  hand  to  one  whom  she 
had  loved  ever  since  she  could  remem- 
ber any  thing.  Thomas  Wiley,  first 
lieutenant  of  company  A,  was  a  young 
merchant,  and  had  been  a  pupil  of  Mr. 
Ryder,  who  saw  with  pleasure  the  attach- 
ment existing  between  the  young  man 
and  his  darling  child,  for  he  knew  him 
to  be  one  calculated  in  every  way  to 
make  her  happy.  When  he  joined  the 
regiment,  Mabel  gave  a  tearful  but  will- 
ing consent,  but  with  his  urgent  solicita- 


DEPARTURE  OF  THE  REGIMENT.   4T 

tion  that  she  should  become  his  wife  be- 
fore they  went,  she  would  not  at  first 
comply,  the  time. was  so  short  and  the 
proposition  so  unexpected ;  but  when  he 
brought  forward  the  plea,  that  as  his 
wife  she  could  with  more  propriety  come 
to  him  if  wounded  or  sick,  she  yielded. 
The  privilege  of  attending  him  in  sick- 
ness or  suffering  was  so  precious,  that 
she  could  not  lightly  relinquish  it ;  so  it 
was  fixed  that  the  marriage  should  take 
place  on  the  morning  of  their  departure. 
It  was  a  beautiful  picture,  that  wed- 
ding party  under  the  trees,  and  one  not 
soon  to  be  forgotten  by  those  who  wit- 
nessed it.  The  fair  young  bride,  dressed 
in  simple  white,  with  smiles  and  tears 
contending  for  the  mastery  on  her  cheek, 
with  her  bridesmaids,  Elinor  and  Lilian ; 
the  happy  groom  in  his  becoming  uni- 
form, supported  by  Eobert  Lester  and 
the  second  lieutenant  of  his  company; 


48         OUK   VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

the  groups  of  friends  scattered  about,  and 
outside  of  all  the  boys  of  the  Twenty-sixth 
looking  on  with  the  deepest  interest,  as 
the  pastor  and  father  pronounced  with 
trembling  voice  the  words  that  gave  his 
child  to  the  keeping  of  another — all  this 
is  engraven  on  my  memory,  and  can 
never  be  erased. 

The  ceremony  was  over,  and  as  the 
regiment  wheeled  into  line,  the  bride- 
groom with  one  long,  silent  embrace  con- 
signed Mabel  to  the  care  of  her  friends 
and  took  his  place  in  the  ranks.  All  the 
stores  were  closed  and  business  suspend- 
ed, as  the  Twenty-sixth  marched  for  the 
last  time,  with  unbroken  columns,  through 
our  streets.  The  regiment  was  raised  in 
the  immediate  vicinity,  and  many  of  its 
members  were  personally  known  to  us ; 
but  at  such  a  moment  all  seemed  like 
sons  and  brothers.  We  were  proud  of 
their  soldierly  bearing,  of  their  firm  and 


DEPAETUEE  OF  THE  REGIMENT.  49 

measured  tread,  of  the  precision  with 
which  their  evolutions  were  performed, 
and  the  intelligence  that  lighted  up  every 
face.  What  eager  eyes  looked  out  from 
the  ranks,  to  catch  the  last  glimpse  of 
mother,  sister,  wife,  or  sweetheart,  as, 
amid  the  waving  of  handkerchiefs,  half- 
uttered  blessings,  and  stifled  sobs,  we 
bade  them  perhaps  a  final  good-by.  They 
left  us  full  of  hope  and  energy,  with  all 
the  courage  and  strength  of  young  man- 
hood nerving  each  arm  and  animating 
each  heart.  How  would  they  come 
back? 


Our  'N  Mage. 


50         OUR  VILLAGE   IN   WAR-TIME. 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

THE  DRUMMER-BOY  OF   THE   TWENTY- 
SIXTH. 

After  the  departure  of  the  regiment 
there  came  to  us  a  season  of  languor  and 
depression.  "We  had  been  in  a  state  of 
unnatural  excitement  for  weeks,  and  the 
reaction  was  inevitable.  But  for  the  let- 
ters received  regularly  from  our  absent 
boys,  and  which  were  read  and  talked 
over  by  all,  and  the  Society  meetings, 
where  we  came  together  to  pray  and  work 
for  the  soldiers,  I  think  we  should  have 
experienced  a  social  stagnation. 

Lilian  Grey,  now  more  than  ever  our 
"sunbeam,"  as  we  loved  to  call  her,  was 
out  of  town  for  a  few  weeks,  and  as  Eli- 
nor seldom  left  her  mother,  who  was  suf- 
fering more  than  usual,  we  saw  verv  lit- 


THE    DEUMMEK-BOY.  51 

tie  of  our  neighbors  in  the  Tyrrell  House. 
Mr.  Fenton  seemed  a  moody,  disappoint- 
ed man,  soured  by  a  sense  of  injustice 
which  he  had  no  power  to  punish  and  no 
inclination  to  forgive. 

Even  Miss  Letty,  who  had  always 
seemed  to  possess  an  unfailing  fountain 
of  cheerfulness  and  hope,  now  wore  at 
times  a  clouded  brow  when  no  tidings 
came  from  Willie,  or  the  news  from  the 
front  was  unusually  warlike.  She  was 
cheered,  however,  by  continued  reports 
of  Willie's  good  conduct  and  popularity 
with  the  regiment,  whose  pet  he  had 
been  from  the  first.  Of  his  courage  there 
could  be  no  question,  for  he  had  been  in 
several  severe  engagements,  and  boy  as 
he  was,  had  stood  unflinchingly  by  the 
side  of  the  bravest. 

On  one  occasion,  at  the  close  of  a  hard 
fought  skirmish,  when  a  furious  charge 
of  the  enemy's  cavalry  had  driven  back 


52         OUR   VILLAGE   IN   WAR-TIME. 

his  regiment,  a  division  commander  rid- 
ing over  the  spot  soon  after,  fonnd  "Wil- 
lie beating  a  tattoo  on  his  drum  as  coolly 
as  if  he  had  been  on  parade. 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  my  little 
fellow  ?"  said  the  general. 

"You  see, .sir."  he  replied,  giving  the 
military  salute,  "I  did  n't  know  but  some 
of  our  boys  might  be  about,  and  I  thought 
I  ;d  let  them  know  there  was  a  drummer 
here,  in  case  they  wanted  to  form  again." 

"  But  what  if  the  enemy  should  return, 
and  find  you  here  alone  ?" 

"If  they  should,  sir,  this  is  my  place, 
and  I  'd  rather  they  'd  find  me  here  than 
skulking,  any  way." 

"Here's  an  unfledged  hero  for  you," 
was  the  exclamation  of  the  general  as  he 
rode  on;  and  the  next  day  Willie  was 
called  out  and  publicly  thanked  by  the 
commander  in  the  presence  of  all  the 
troops.     "It  was  an  instance  of  bravery 


THE   DRUMMER-BOY.  53 

which  would  have  done  honor  to  a  vet- 
eran.'7 Such  were  the  words  of  the  gen- 
eral, and  a  happy  woman  was  his  aunt 
as  she  read  them  in  a  letter  written  by 
Robert  Lester  on  the  occasion. 

Then  came  to  us  the  news  of  the  inva- 
sion of  Maryland  by  the  rebels,  and  in  a 
few  days  the  battle  of  Antietam  flashed 
over  the  wires,  and  with  others  we  ex- 
ulted in  the  victory,  little  thinking  how 
deeply  it  was  to  affect  us,  for  we  suppos- 
ed the  Twenty-sixth  to  be  in  a  division 
at  some  distance  from  the  seat  of  war. 

But  a  few  days  served  to  undeceive 
us;  and  then,  as  the  "terrible  list"  of 
killed  and  wounded  was  read  with  dim- 
ming eyes  and  blanched  cheeks,  we 
learned  how  fearful  was  the  loss  our  own 
troops  had  sustained.  Robert  Lester, 
who  had  risen  rapidly  from  the  ranks, 
and  had  been  made  captain  on  the  field 
at  Williamsburg,  was  wounded,  it  was 


54         OUK   TILLAGE    IN   WAE-TIME. 

thought,  mortally.  Our  clear  little  Wil- 
lie had  lost  an  arm,  and  Lieut.  Wiley, 
the  bridegroom  of  an  hour,  had  fallen 
gloriously  at  the  head  of  his  company, 
while  cheering  them  on.  Many  others 
whom  we  knew  and  loved  had  also  died 
on  the  field,  rendered  immortal  by  their 
bravery. 

In  the  evening  of  the  day  on  which 
the  news  reached  us,  I  went  to  the  par- 
sonage, and  found  our  good  clergyman 
preparing  to  start  for  Maryland  to  look 
after  our  wounded,  and  to  bring  home 
the  body  of  Lieut.  Wiley.  Poor  Mabel 
had  been  overwhelmed  by  the  sad  intel- 
ligence, and  as  her  mother  was  wholly 
occupied  with  the  heart-broken  girl,  there 
was  no  one  to  assist  Mr.  Eycler;  but 
Miss  Letty  came  in  soon  after  me,  and 
she  was  a  host  in  herself.  She  was  very 
pale,  but  cheerful  and  efficient  as  ever, 
thinking  of  everybody  and  every  thing, 


THE   DEUMMER-BOY.  55 

and  bringing  order  out  of  confusion  by 
the  magic  of  her  touch.  When  I  ex- 
pressed the  hope  that  she  would  remain 
at  the  parsonage  with  Mrs.  Ryder  and 
Mabel,  she  answered, 

"Bless  you,  dear,  you  don't  suppose  I 
could  stay  here,  and  little  Willie  lying 
with  an  arm  cut  off  at  Hagerstown;  do 
you  ?  There  is  nobody  can  do  for  him  as 
I  can,  who  am  like  a  mother  to  him ;  and 
if  they  could,  I  shouldn't  be  willing  to 
have  them.  No,  no,  I  am  going  to  start 
to-night  with  Mr.  Ryder,  and  I  shall 
count  the  minutes  till  we  get  there." 

"But  have  you  no  preparations  to 
make  for  yourself  for  such  a  journey?" 
I  inquired. 

"Oh,  my  preparations  were  all  made 
hours  ago,  as  soon  as  I  heard  the  news. 
I  have  put  up  every  thing  I  shall  be 
likely  to  want  for  my  boy;  and  fts  for 
myself,  I  am  always  ready,  you  know. 


56         OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

There  is  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  fix  up 
Mr.  Ryder  and  be  off.  Miss  Lilian  and 
poor  Fanny  Lester  are  going  with  us,  to 
see  the  captain,  if  he  7s  alive ;  and  who 
knows  but  their  going  may  save  his  life, 
if  he  isn't  dead  when  they  get  there. 
Some  folks  will  blame  Miss  Lilian  for 
going ;  but  Fanny  can't  go  without  her, 
and  she  wont  care  much  for  talk  when 
she  thinks  she  's  doing  right.'' 

I  saw  the  little  company  off  a  few 
hours  later,  and  a  sorrowful  parting  it 
was,  though  Miss  Letty  and  Lilian  tried 
hard  to  assume  a  courage  they  did  not 
feel,  to  comfort  Fanny  Lester,  whose 
grief  was  terrible  to  witness ;  and  how  I 
loved  and  admired  Lilian,  when  I  saw 
her  so  forgetful  of  self,  soothing  and  sus- 
taining the  weeping  sister,  while  her  own 
heart  was  bleeding  silently.  This  young 
girl  was  not  one  to  proclaim  her  sorrow 
on  the  house-tops,  or  to  make  noisy  de- 


THE    DRUMMER-BOY.  57 

mands  for  sympathy.  When  the  iron 
entered  her  soul,  she  would  turn  away 
quietly  from  observation,  and  pursuing 
her  daily  round  of  duty,  pour  the  tale  of 
her  suffering  into  the  ear  of  Infinite  pity 
alone. 

It  may  be  that  I  am  about  to  betray 
Miss  Letty's  confidence ;  but  her  letters 
from  Hagerstown  were  such  faithful 
transcripts  of  her  heart  and  character, 
that  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  to 
give  a  few  extracts  from  them  to  my 
readers. 

" I  wish  I  could  give  you  some 

idea  of  the  hospitals  here,  but  I  can't  be- 
gin to  describe  them.  The  rooms  look 
airy  and  clean  enough  ;  but,  Oh  dear, 
those  long  rows  of  beds,  with  poor  suf- 
fering, maimed,  dying  heroes  lying  on 
them,  some  with  faces  paler  than  the 
sheets,  some  burning  up  with  fever,  and 
all  having  such  a  tired,  anxious  look,  as 


58         OUR   VILLAGE   IN   WAR-TIME. 

if  they  wanted  somebody  to  comfort 
them ;  and,  poor  fellows,  they  do  need  it 
bad  enough,  I  can  tell  you.  I  should 
have  been  glad  to  stop  and  say  a  kind 
word  to  every  one  of  them,  but  a  nurse 
hurried  me  on  to  a  little  room  beyond 
the  large  one,  with  three  or  four  beds  in 
it,  and  there,  on  a  cot,  I  found  my  boy, 
looking  as  white  and  weak  as  could  be, 
but  just  as  pleasant  as  ever. 

"He  was  asleep,  and  I  didn't  want  to 
wake  him,  so  I  took  a  chair  very  softly, 
and  sat  down  close  by  the  dear  little 
fellow  till  his  nap  was  out.  The  first  I 
knew,  the  tears  were  dripping,  dripping 
into  my  lap  just  like  rain.  I  'm  sure  I  *d 
no  thought  of  crying  in  that  place,  but 
there  were  tears  in  my  heart  when  I  saw 
that  dear  little  face  all  drawn  up  with 
pain  in  his  sleep,  and  when  I  thought 
about  that  arm  that  had  been  round  my 
neck  so  often,  and  never  would  be  any 


THE   DKUMMEK-BOY.  59 

more.  By  and  by  lie  waked  up,  and 
when  he  saw  me  sitting  there,  he  gave 
one  shout,  and  if  the  sun  had  been  shin- 
ing right  into  his  eyes,  they  couldn't 
have  been  any  brighter.  That  one  look 
would  have  paid  me  for  all  the  jour- 
ney, if  I  had  n't  clone  a  single  thing  for 
him. 

"'Oh,  aunty,'  says  he,  'I  was  just 
dreaming  that  you  had  come,  and  it 
seemed  so  good  to  have  you  over  me 
once  more,  and  now  here  you  are.  I 
do  n't  know  what  to  say,  our  Father  is 
so  good  to  me.' 

"It  was  as  much  as  I  could  do  to 
speak,  but  I  made  out  to  tell  him  I  had 
come  to  stay  and  take  care  of  him  till  he 
could  go  home  with  me. 

"  He  gave  his  head  a  little  shake,  just 
as  he  used  to  when  he  wasn't  certain 
about  a  thing,  and  said, 

"  '  I  don't  think  much  about  going  to 


60         OUR   VILLAGE   IN   WAR-TIME. 

that  home,  Aunt  Letty ;  I  'm  a  little  boy, 
you  know,  to  have  an  arm  cut  off,  and 
mine  is  n*t  doing  very  well,  I  know  from 
the  doctor's  looks.  But  it  will  all  come 
out  right ;'  and  such  a  smile  as  there  was 
on  his  face.  '  And  now,  dear  aunty, 
give  me  another  kiss,  and  I  '11  turn  over 
and  go  to  sleep  again;  and  I  wish  you 
could  too,  you  look  so  tired.' 

"I  told  him  I  wasn't  tired,  and  then 
I  shook  up  his  pillow,  and  he  turned 
over  and  went  right  to  sleep  like  the 
lamb  he  is. 

"All  this  while  there  had  been  a  pair 
of  great  black  eyes  watching  me  ever  so 
wishfully  the  other  side  of  the  room  ;  so 
when  "Willie  was  asleep,  I  thought  I'd 
find  out  who  they  belonged  to.  I  went 
over  to  the  bed,  and  found  a  poor  young 
fellow  eighteen  years  old,  who  looked  as 
if  he  could  n't  live  twenty- four  hours. 

11  'Is  there  any  thing  I  can  do  for  you  V 


THE   DRUMMER-BOY.  61 

said  I,  for  I  felt  awfully  to  see  him  lie 
there  looking  so  pitiful. 

"'0  yes,  ma'am,'  said  he;  'if  you 
will  only  speak  a  few  kind  words  to  me, 
and  smooth  my  hair  as  you  did  little 
Willie's,  it  would  do  me  so  much  good. 
I  thought  when  I  saw  you  kiss  his  fore- 
head, if  my  mother  could  only  come  and 
do  that,  it  would  be  easier  to  die.' 

"'Well,  my  dear  boy,'  said  I,  'I  a'n't 
your  mother,  nor  any  of  your  relation ; 
but  I  'm  a  fellow-creature,  and  I  feel  for 
you,  and  am  willing  to  clo  any  thing  I 
can  to  make  you  comfortable.' 

"So  I  got  some  bay-rum  from  a  nurse, 
and  bathed  his  hot  hands  and  face,  and 
brushed  his  hair  and  smoothed  his  pil- 
low, and  then  I  gave  him  just  such  a  kiss 
as  I  did  Willie,  and  I  a'n't  ashamed  to 
own  it.  The  big  tears  were  in  his  eyes, 
and  he  said, 

" '  I  did  n't  think  any  thing  in  the  world 


62         OUR  VILLAGE   IN   WAR-TIME. 

could  do  me  so  much  good.  It  seems  as 
if  mother  was  here,  and  I  thank  you  a 
thousand  times.7 

"Then  I  asked  him  if  there  was  any 
thing  more  he  wanted,  and  what  do  you 
think  he  said  ? 

'"If  you  could  only  read  a  few  verses 
out  of  my  Bible  and  pray  with  me,  I 
should  be  so  glad.  I  in  going  to  die, 
and  I  aVt  afraid  to  go,  but  I  do  want 
somebody  to  read  and  pray  with  me 
first.' 

"Only  think  of  that ;  for  me,  who  never 
dared  to  speak  loud  in  any  meeting  at 
home,  to  be  asked  to  pray  with  a  sick 
man  in  a  hospital !  It  was  like  a  blow 
to  me,  and  for  a  minute  I  didn't  know 
what  to  say ;  but  there  were  those  eyes 
looking  right  through  me,  and  he  said 
softly,  'If  you  only  could.'  So  I  pluck- 
ed up  courage,  and  said,  'I  will,7  and 
then  I  shut  to  the  door  and  read  a  chap- 


THE   DKUMMEE-BOY.  63 

ter  in  a  low  voice,  just  so  he  could  hear 
me,  and  tried  to  ask  God  to  help  and 
comfort  the  poor  boy,  for  he  was  nothing 
more.  When  I  got  through,  he  took  hold 
of  my  hand,  and  said,  'I  can't  thank  you 
for  your  kindness  as  I  want  to,  but  God 
will  reward  you,  I  *m  sure.  Take  the 
blessing  of  a  dying  man,  and  remember 
you  have  comforted  my  last  hours.' 

"I  was  ashamed  to  hear  him  speak  so; 
for  after  all,  what  had  I  done  to  deserve 
thanks  for  ? 

"He  died  the  next  day,  and  I  staid  by 
him  all  I  could  when  Willie  did  n't  need 
me,  and  wrote  a  letter  to  his  mother  just 
as  he  gave  the  words  to  me  only  an  hour 
or  two  before  he  breathed  his  last.  Poor 
woman !  I  pitied  her,  for  he  was  a  no- 
ble-looking fellow,  and  one  that  feared 
God,  and  I  know  a  mother  must  have  set 
a  great  store  by  such  a  son.'7 

In  another  letter  she  wrote, 


64         OUR   TILLAGE    IN   WAR-TIME. 

"My  little  Willie  is  getting  along  very 
slowly,  and  the  doctors  look  sober  about 
him,  and  I  know  they  're  afraid  he  7s  go- 
ing into  a  decline.  His  mother  died  of 
that,  and  they  say  the  shock  to  his  sys- 
tem has  been  so  great  that  it  may  not  be 
able  to  rally  again.  But  he  's  just  as 
happy  as  the  day  is  long,  and  says  if  he 
had  twenty  arms,  he  'd  be  willing  to  give 
them  all  for  his  country. 

" I  don't  see  much  of  the  captain  or 
Miss  Lilian,  for  he  is  in  another  building 
where  the  officers  are ;  and  he  's  so  low, 
they  do  n't  let  anybody  visit  him  unless 
they  have  a  special  permit  from  the  doc- 
tor. I  believe  they  have  a  little  more 
hope  of  him  than  they  had  at  first,  but 
Miss  Lilian  says  his  life  hangs  by  a  sin- 
gle thread.  Dear  Miss  Lilian,  she  looks 
tired  and  pale,  but  her  smile  is  just  as 
bright  as  ever,  and  when  she  comes  to 
see  Willie,  it  always  cheers  him  up,  like 


'- 


THE    DRUMMER-BOY.  65 

a  breath  of  fresh  air  or  a  bunch  of  flow- 
ers." 

While  Miss  Letty  was  away  in  Ha- 
gerstown,  a  letter  came  to  the  Fenton's 
from  their  absent  son,  who  was  a  priso- 
ner in  our  lines,  and  had  been  severely 
wounded,  bringing  the  joyful  intelligence 
that  he  had  taken  from  his  heart  the  oath 
of  allegiance  to  the  dear  old  flag.  As 
soon  as  he  could  travel  he  would  come 
home  for  a  short  visit,  and  then  join  the 
Union  army.  He  told  them  how  he  had 
been  left  for  dead  on  the  field  at  Will- 
iamsburg, and  that  a  little  drummer-bov 
chanced  to  find  him  ;  thai  he  brought 
him  water  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life, 
and  finally  had  him  carried  from  the 
field  by  some  members  of  the  Twenty- 
sixth,  to  which  regiment  the  boy  be- 
longed. 

While  in  the  hospital  there,  he  said 
little  Willie  visited  him  often  at  his  own 

Our  Village.  5 


66         OUR   VILLAGE    IN   WAR-TIME. 

special  request,  and  to  the  artless  con- 
versation of  this  child  he  attributed  his 
first  convictions  of  the  wrong  course  he 
had  been  pursuing.  "It  was  the  last 
thing  he  thought  of,"  the  letter  conclud- 
ed, "to  teach  me,  whom  he  regarded  as 
greatly  his  superior ;  but  his  thoughts,  so 
far  beyond  his  years,  brought  to  mind 
the  neglected  lessons  of  my  precious 
mother,  and  now,  if  I  am  like  the  repent- 
ing prodigal,  I  owe  it,  under  God,  to  that 
dear  boy,  whose  heroism  is  only  equalled 
by  the  kindness  of  his  heart," 

ft  will  be  readily  believed  that  the 
Fentons  were  enthusiastic  in  their  ex- 
pressions of  love  and  gratitude  to  Willie 
for  the  signal  service  he  had  rendered 
them,  and  a  letter  was  sent  at  once  to 
Miss  Letty  informing  her  of  the  facts, 
and  entreating  her  to  bring  the  dear  in- 
valid to  the  Tyrrell  House  immediately 
on  her  return. 


THE   DRUMMER-BOY.  67 

It  was  a  lovely  evening  in  early  au- 
tumn when  Miss  Letty  and  her  charge 
came  back  to  us,  and  the  first  glance  at 
Willie's  pale,  sweet  face  told  us  that  his 
days  were  numbered.  Yet  his  spirits 
were  so  buoyant,  his  enjoyment  of  every 
thing  so  earnest  and  child-like,  it  was 
hard  to  believe  that  he  was  indeed  pass- 
ing away  from  earth. 

When  I  first  visited  him  at  the  Tyrrell 
House,  he  was  sitting  up  in  an  easy-chair 
in  a  room  overlooking  the  garden,  and 
with  choice  flowers  all  about  him.  He 
smiled  as  I  took  his  hand  and  inquired 
after  his  health,  saying, 

"Tin  quite  well,  and  so  happy.  I 
can't  think  what  makes  everybody  so 
kind  to  me.  I  don't  deserve  it  at  all, 
but  God  puts  it  into  their  hearts,  and  I 
thank  him  for  it.  If  dear  Miss  Lilian  was 
only  here  ;  but  I  'm  so  glad  she  's  with 
the  captain. " 


68         OUR   VILLAGE    iN  WAR-TIME. 

"Were  you  in  Captain  Lester's  com- 
pany?" I  asked. 

"0  yes,  he  got  me  transferred;  and, 
Mrs.  Glenn,  I  don't  think  there  ?s  anoth- 
er man  in  the  world  like  Captain  Les- 
ter." 

"In  what  respect,  Willie?" 

"In  every  thing.  The  men  all  love 
him  so,  they  'd  give  their  lives  for  him ; 
and  yet  he  's  very  strict,  and  wont  have 
any  drinking  or  gambling  or  swearing  in 
the  camp.  They  have  to  do  just  right, 
and  then  he  's  the  kindest  man  I  ever 
saw.  If  anybody  is  sick  or  in  trouble, 
they  know  where  to  go.  for  help  ;  and 
when  the  chaplain  is  away,  he  prays  and 
reads  a  sermon  to  the  men  in  the  big 
tent  every  Sunday.  Oh  dear,  I  do 
hope  he  wont  die."  And  the  tears, 
which  no  sufferings  of  his  own  could  call 
forth,  fell  fast  for  those  of  his  beloved 
captain. 


THE   DRUMMER-BOY.  69 

"  Willie,"  I  said,  "do  you  remember 
any  thing  about  being  wounded,  and  how 
you  felt  then  ¥' 

"Not  much  at  first.  It  is  all  like  a 
confused  dream;  how  we  marched  all 
day  to  get  up  with  the  army ;  how  we 
lay  down  to  escape  the  shot  and  shell 
that  the  rebs  were  pouring  into  us ;  and 
at  last,  how  the  captain  called  out  to  us, 
'Now,  boys,  is  your  time!'  and  then  we 
went  in  on  the  double-quick,  till  we  were 
in  the  thickest  of  it.  It  seems  somehow 
as  if  that  was  years  ago ;  but  all  at  once, 
when  I  was  beating  my  drum  as  hard  as 
I  could,  I  felt  as  if  I  was  falling  down 
ever  so  far,  and  I  did  n't  know  any  thing 
more  for  a  good  while. 

"When  I  came  to  myself,  the  fighting 
was  over,  and  the  rebs  all  gone ;  but  I 
was  so  weak  that  I  couldn't  stir  nor 
speak,  and  I  thought  my  time  had  come ; 
but  I  did  n't  feel  afraid  to  die. 


70  OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

"You  remember,  ma'am,  the  time  of 
that  revival  in  the  Sabbath-school,  when 
several  of  the  children  were  admitted  to 
the  church?  I  think  I  gave  my  heart  to 
the  Saviour  then ;  and  though  Aunt  Letty 
thought  I  was  too  young  to  come  forward 
with  them,  I  have  always  loved  my  Bible 
better  than  any  other  book ;  and  when  I 
lay  there,  I  tried  to  look  up  to  the  Lord 
Jesus,  but  my  eyes  were  heavy,  and 
would  n't  keep  open.  Then  it  seemed  as 
if  angels  were  all  round  me,  and  I  forgot 
my  pain  and  how  much  I  wanted  water, 
and  went  to  sleep  again.  The  next  thing 
I  knew,  I  was  in  the  hospital,  and  my 
arm  gone." 

I  was  affected  to  tears  by  this  simple 
recital,  and  could  hardly  command  my 
voice  to  say, 

"But,  Willie,  you  have  always  been 
veFv  full  of  life  and  activity ;  does  it  never 
seem  hard  to  you  to  lose  your  arm,  and 


THE   DRUMMER-BOY.  71 

to  be  shut  up  here  so  sick,  and  perhaps 
to  die  ?" 

His  face  flushed,  and  he  looked  up 
in  surprise,  but  soon  answered  pleas- 
antly, 

"Oh,  you  are  only  asking  that  to  try 
me  ;  you  could  n't  mean  it  in  earnest,  Pm 
sure.  Why,  there  never  was  any  boy 
who  had  so  many  blessings  as  I  have. 
In  the  first  place,  it  was  such  goodfless 
in  God  to  let  me  go  out  with  the  regi- 
ment, such  a  poor  little  fellow  as  I  am. 
Then  when  I  was  hurt,  he  sent  dear  Aunt 
Letty  to  take  care  of  me,  and  bring  me 
home  here  to  such  a  nice  place,  and 
such  kind  friends.  It  is  n't  any  matter 
about  my  arm,  for  when  I  die  I  '11  have 
wings,  you  know,  and  so  it  will  never  be 
missed." 

Dear  young  disciple!  So  early  and 
plainly  taught  of  the  blessed  Saviour, 
what  could  older  Christians  do  but  sit  at 


72  OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

thy  feet  and  learn  wisdom  from  thy  sim- 
ple, childlike  words  ? 

While  I  still  lingered,  unable  to  tear 
myself  away  from  a  scene  so  peaceful 
and  hallowed,  Mrs.  Flint  came  in,  and 
took  a  seat  by  his  side.  Her  looks  and 
voice  were  carefully  graduated  to  suit 
the  occasion  as  she  said, 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you  so  comfortable, 
and*hope,  my  dear  child,  that  the  chas- 
tisement of  the  Lord  is  doing  you  good. 
Do  you  feel  that  this  is  the  case?" 

Willie  was  a  brave,  happy  boy  nat- 
urally, and  religion  had  added  to  these 
traits  a  firm  trust  in  God  as  his  Father, 
through  Jesus  Christ,  so  he  smiled  as  he 
answered, 

"I  don't  know,  ma'am;  I  hope  I  love 
the  Saviour,  and  I  know  he  loves  me,  and 
he  gives  me  so  many  blessings  I  do  n't 
think  much  about  punishment.  I  don't 
feel  as  if  he  was  angry  with  me.  when  he 


THE  DEUMMEE-BOY.  73 

has  died  for  me,  and  I  want  to  please  him 
more  than  any  thing  else  in  the  world. " 

"I  am  afraid,  my  dear,"  she  replied, 
"that  yon  do  not  realize  how  great  a  sin- 
ner yon  are,  if  yon  think  yon  don't  de- 
serve punishment  for  your  sins." 

"No  indeed,  it  isn't  that,"  Willie  ex- 
claimed, while  his  cheeks  flushed  with 
the  excitement  of  his  feelings.  But  Miss 
Letty  could  keep  silence  no  longer,  and 
interrupted  him,  saying, 

"Mrs.  Flint,  my  little  Willie  can't  talk 
much  now,  but  I  think  he  lives  religion 
better  than  a  great  many  of  us.  He 
means,  and  I  say,  that  though  we  do  n't 
deserve  any  thing  but  punishment  for 
our  sins,  it  is  n't  always  a  sign  that  God 
is  angry  with  us  when  he  lets  us  suffer  in 
this  world.  He  was  n't  angry  with  Job, 
when  he  allowed  Satan  to  try  him  so ; 
nor  with  Daniel,  when  he  was  put  into 
the  lions'  den ;  but  he  did  it  to  show  what 


74  OUR  VILLAGE    IN  WAK-TIME. 

religion  could  do  for  people  when  they 
are  in  the  worst  of  troubles.  I  believe 
it  7s  just  so  nowadays ;  and  that  God  is 
nearer  to  us  sometimes  when  every  thing 
seems  to  go  wrong,  than  he  is  when  it 's 
fair  weather  and  smooth  sailing." 

"That  may  be  so,"  replied  Mrs.  Flint, 
"but  don't  you  think  there  's  danger  of 
making  the  way  of  religion  too  easy,  so 
that  people  will  think  they  are  Christians 
when  they  are  not  ?" 

"I  don't  think  we  have  any  thing  to 
do  with  making  the  way  hard  or  easy. 
We  must  take  it  just  as  Jesus  Christ  left 
it;  and  he  says,  'I  love  them  that  love 
me,  and  those  that  seek  me  early  shall 
find  me.'  I  don't  read  that  any  thing 
but  repentance  and  faith  in  the  Saviour, 
and  renewing  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  is  nec- 
essary to  be  a  humble  Christian;  and  I 
am  sure  the  Saviour  never  turned  away 
any  one  who  came  to  him  in  earnest,  and 


THE    DKUMMEK-BOY.  15 

wanted  to  be  his  disciple.  But  Willie  is 
getting  tired,  and  it  wont  do  to  talk  any 
longer." 

The  visitor  departed,  leaving  the  little 
invalid  weary  and  feverish,  until  soothed 
by  the  gentle  ministrations  of  Miss  Letty 
and  Elinor  Fenton.  Why  is  it  that  some 
individuals,  who  pass  in  society  for  good 
people,  have  the  unenviable  talent  of 
making  every  one  uncomfortable  with 
whom  they  come  in  contact  ?  Under  all 
the  velvet  of  their  professions,  the  claws 
continually  lacerate,  even  while  they 
seem  to  caress.  There  are  few  commu- 
nities in  which  some  of  these  specimens 
of  humanity  may  not  be  found  ;  and  it  is 
sad  when  they  wear  the  garb  of  religion, 
and  pretend  to  be  holier  than  others, 
while  doing  the  work  of  him  who  has 
sought  from  the  beginning  to  foment  strife 
and  jealousy  among  brethren. 

During  the  fall,  Willie  had  several  at- 


7G         OUE  VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

tacks  of  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs,  which 
rapidly  wasted  his  strength ;  but  he  was 
still  the  same  happy,  trusting,  loving  boy, 
enjoying  life  with  all  a  boy's  enthusiasm, 
yet  welcoming  death  with  perfect  se- 
renity. 

On  one  of  the  last  days  of  the  Indian 
summer,  when  a  golden  haze  lay  on  ev- 
ery thing,  softening  the  landscape  and 
giving  to  autumn  more  than  the  beauty 
of  spring,  I  was  called  to  see  Willie  die. 
I  found  him  sitting  up  in  bed,  gasping 
for  breath,  and  his  forehead  damp  with 
the  death -dew;  but  his  eye  was  still 
clear,  and  on  his  lips  was  a  smile  bright 
with  heaven's  own  radiance.  "Dear 
"Willie,"  I  said,  "you  are  almost  home." 

11  0  yes,  I  like  this  home  very  much, 
but  that  one  is  better.  I  am  where 
Christian  was  when  he  began  to  cross 
the  river,  and  in  a  little  while  I  shall  be 
over." 


THE    DEUMMER-BOY.  77 

Bunyan's  inimitable  allegory  was  his 
favorite  book,  and  he  had  it  almost  by 
heart.  While  in  camp  it  had  been  his 
greatest  pleasure  to  repeat  portions  of  it 
to  the  listening  soldiers,  by  whom  "  Wil- 
lie's stories"  were  preferred  to  any  other. 
And  now  on  his  dying-bed  the  pilgrim 
was  to  him  a  living  friend  who  had  cross- 
ed the  stream  just  before  him,  and  whom 
he  was  about  to  join  in  the  Celestial  City. 

" Willie,"  said  Mr.  Ryder,  "have  you 
no  wish  to  live  ?" 

"To  live!'7  he  repeated  with  anima- 
tion; "why,  don't  you  know  I  am  just 
going  to  live  ?  Oh,  if  you  could  only  see 
what  I  see,  such  beautiful  angels  with 
shining  wings,  and  hear  the  sweet  music, 
you  would  be  willing  to  die  too,  so  that 
you  could  go  and  live  with  them." 

The  eloquence  of  look  and  tone  with 
which  this  was  said  is  indescribable.  He 
lay  quietly  for  a  few  moments  with  closed 


78         OUR   VILLAGE   IN   WAR-TIME. 

eyes,  then  suddenly  turning  to  Miss  Let- 
ty,  who  was  weeping,  he  said, 

"Dear  aunty,  you  told  me  of  Jesus, 
and  taught  me  how  to  seek  him,  and  now 
I  am  going  to  live  with  him  for  ever. 
Perhaps  he  will  let  me  fly  down  to  you 
sometimes,  and  whisper  to  you  about 
heaven  when  you  are  sorrowful ;  I  should 
love  to  so  much.  If  I  could  only  have 
seen  the  captain  and  Miss  Lilian  once 
more ;  but  no  matter,  they  ;11  come, 
you  '11  all  come  home  by  and  by." 

His  voice  failed,  and  he  seemed  al- 
most gone,  when  raising  his  hand,  he 
whispered, 

"They  are  all  coming,  mother;  it  is 
light,  all  light ;"  and  then  with  one  long 
tremulous  sigh,  the  ransomed  spirit  fled, 
leaving  the  impress  of  its  happiness. 

We  buried  him  in  a  quiet  spot,  select- 
ed by  himself  near  his  childhood's  home, 
and  a  plain  marble  slab,  with  the  inscrip- 


THE   DRUMMER-BOY.  79 

tion,  "Our  Willie,"  marks  his  resting- 
place.  His  drum,  a  beautiful  and  richly 
ornamented  one  given  him  by  his  regi- 
ment after  the  battle  of  Malvern  Hills, 
and  which  he  kept  constantly  near  him 
through  all  his  illness,  was  enclosed  in  a 
glass  case,  and  placed  at  the  head  of  his 
grave.  We  shall  see  him  no  more  on 
earth,  but  the  memory  of  the  little  drum- 
mer-boy is  still  cherished  in  the  hearts 
of  many  who  loved  him  here,  and  who 
hope  to  meet  him  in  the  better  land 
where  "sorrow  and  parting  are  sounds 
unknown.7' 


80         OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

CHAPTER  V. 

HOW  THE  BOYS  CAME  HOME. 

Capt.  Lester  was  carried  from  the 
field  of  Antietam  insensible,  and  on  ex- 
amination his  wounds  were  pronounced 
mortal  by  the  physicians,  though  no 
means  were  left  untried  to  preserve  a 
life  so  valuable  to  his  country.  A  minie 
ball  had  passed  through  his  shoulder  to  the 
back  of  the  neck,  and  at  the  same  time 
the  fragment  of  a  shell  struck  his  ankle, 
inflicting  a  severe  wound,  and  splinter- 
ing the  bone.  He  lay  for  several  days  in 
a  half-unconscious  state — at  times,  when 
partially  roused,  becoming  delirious,  then 
sinking  again  into  a  lethargy  from  which 
it  was  difficult  to  awaken  him.  A  pri- 
vate house  had  been  hastily  fitted  up  for 
the  reception  of  the  wounded,  and  to  this 


HOW  THE  BOYS  CAME  HOME.    81 

he  was  taken  and  made  as  comfortable 
as  circumstances  admitted. 

When  Fanny  Lester  and  Lilian  reach- 
ed the  end  of  their  journey,  they  were  at 
first  denied  admittance  to  the  hospital ; 
and  it  was  only  after  the  most  strenuous 
exertions  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Eyder  that 
they  were  allowed  to  see  Capt.  Lester. 

"  I  am  afraid,  my  dear  young  friends," 
said  the  good  man,  "that  you  will  not  be 
permitted  to  remain  with  him ;  the  mili- 
tary rules  are  very  strict,  and  few  favors 
are  shown  here." 

"  Have  no  fears  on  that  score,  my  dear 
sir,"  Lilian  replied.  "If  once  we  gain 
entrance,  it  will  take  at  least  a  regiment 
to  dislodge  us." 

It  was  evening  when  they  entered  the 
room  where  the  sick  man  lay,  seemingly 
insensible  to  every  thing  around  him; 
and  as  Lilian  approached,  the  nurse  who 
had  been  moistening  his  lips  from  time 

Our  Village.  Q 


82         OUR   VILLAGE    IN   WAR-TIME. 

to  time,  came  forward,  and  greeting. her 
kindly,  offered  her  a  seat  by  his  side. 
Though  terribly  shocked  at  his  death- 
like appearance,  Lilian  was  outwardly 
calm;  and  taking  from  the  nurse  minute 
directions  with  regard  to  the  treatment 
to  be  pursued,  busied  herself  in  arrang- 
ing the  dressings  and  medicines,  to  con- 
ceal the  emotion  which  threatened  to 
overpower  her. 

When  this  was  done,  she  seated  her- 
self by  the  bedside,  and  taking  the  hand 
of  the  wounded  man,  placed  her  fingers 
on  his  wrist  to  assure  herself  that  he  still 
lived,  for  in  that  darkened  room  his  sleep 
so  closely  resembled  death,  that  her  heart 
stood  still  with  terror  as  she  looked  upon 
him.  Hardly  had  she  touched  his  wrist 
when  a  perceptible  thrill  ran  through  the 
veins ;  there  was  a  slight  movement,  and 
then  a  faint  voice  whispered,  "Is  this 
Lilian?'7 


HOW  THE  BOYS  CAME  HOME.    83 

Too  much  agitated  to  reply  at  once, 
she  gave  him  the  stimulant  prescribed  by 
the  nurse,  turned  up  the  lamp  that  she 
might  see  his  face,  and  then  said  as  calm- 
ly as  she  could, 

"Yes,  Robert,  it  is  your  sister  and 
Lilian,  who  have  come  to  nurse  and  make 

vou  well." 

«/ 

11 Thank  God!"  was  the  low  response; 
and  then  he  seemed  to  sleep  again,  while 
Lilian  watched  him  through  the  night, 
g\ad  to  find  that  her  young  companion 
had  forgotten  her  sorrows  in  refreshing 
slumber.  From  that  time  Capt.  Lester's 
symptoms  were  slightly  improved,  and 
he  had  more  frequent  intervals  of  con- 
sciousness, though  there  were  yet  but 
faint  hopes  of  his  recovery.  If  medical 
skill  and  the  most  assiduous  care  could 
save  him,  he  was  certain  to  recover,  for 
Lilian  or  Fanny  were  with  him  night 
and  day,  anticipating  every  want,  and 


84         OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

soothing  by  their  tender  sympathy  the 
sufferings  which  no  skill  could  wholly 
relieve. 

For  some  weeks  it  was  feared  by  the 
surgeons  that  amputation  of  the  foot  must 
take  place ;  and  nothing  but  the  prayers 
and  tears  of  Lilian  induced  them  to  de- 
lay it,  until,  by  the  blessing  of  God  on 
her  exertions,  it  was  no  longer  deemed 
necessary.  The  ball  still  remained  in 
his  shoulder,  and  had  hitherto  eluded 
search ;  but  it  was  at  length  found  and 
extracted ;  and  from  that  hour  his  prog- 
ress, though  slow,  was  sure. 

"How  is  it,  Eobert,"  said  Lilian  one 
day,  when  he  was  suffering  more  than 
usual  from  his  wounds,  "that  you  are 
always  so  cheerful  and  patient,  though 
you  suffer  so  much  ?  I  have  heard  that 
convalescents  are  expected  to  be  irrita- 
ble and  capricious,  but  you  do  not  avail 
yourself  of  the  privilege  at  all.     You 


HOW    THE    BOYS    CAME    HOME.  85 

must  be  naturally  indifferent  to  pain,  or 
else  you  have  too  much  pride  to  allow  it 
to  overcome  you ;  which  is  it  ?" 

"Neither  the  one  nor  the  other,  dear 
Lilian.  I  have  naturally  a  great  dread 
of  pain,  and  do  not  think  myself  possess- 
ed of  a  large  share  of  that  moral  courage 
in  which  your  sex  excel,  and  which  is 
the  only  kind  which  will  bear  the  test  of 
suffering.  As  to  pride,  it  is  sadly  out  of 
place  on  a  sick-bed,  even  if  it  had  the 
power  to  deaden  a  sense  of  pain,  which 
I  very  much  doubt." 

"  What  is  it  then  that  makes  you  so  de- 
sirable a  patient?  for,  excepting  my  aunt, 
I  never  saw  any  one  bear  pain  as  you  do." 

"Shall  I  tell  you,  my  Lilian?  It  is 
the  taking  home  to  my  heart,  and  appro- 
priating that  precious  promise,  'My  grace 
is  sufficient  for  thee,  for  my  strength  is 
made  perfect  in  weakness.'  In  myself  I 
am  all  weakness ;  but  if  an  almighty  arm 


86  OUE  VILLAGE   IN  WAK-TIME. 

is  underneath  and  around  me,  I  have  all 
the  strength  and  support  I  need.  God 
grant  that  you  may  know  from  your  own 
experience  the  blessedness  of  which  I 
speak." 

Tears  were  in  the  eyes  of  Lilian  as 
she  answered, 

"With  such  examples  as  I  have  had 
before  me,  I  can  never  doubt  the  reality 
of  the  religion  of  Jesus,  and  I  would  give 
worlds,  if  I  had  them,  to  feel  its  power ; 
but  it  seems  impossible  for  me  to  obtain 
such  a  blessing." 

1  'Believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
thou  shalt  be  saved,"  was.  the  reply. 
"And  now,  dear  Lilian,  I  must  send  you 
from  me  to  visit  our  poor  patient  up 
stairs,  who  needs  you  even  more  than  I 
do,  if  that  were  possible." 

A  few  days  previous  to  this  conversa- 
tion, Lilian  was  passing  through  one  of 
the  rooms  in  which  lay  some  rebel  offi- 


HOW  THE  BOYS  CAME  HOME.    81 

cers  who  had  been  recently  brought  in 
from  Virginia.  Most  of  them  were  hope- 
less cases,  and  the  sight  was  so  painful  to 
the  young  girl,  that  she  passed  on  rap- 
idly, until  her  steps  were  arrested  by  the 
exclamation,  "Miss  Grey!  can  it  be 
possible  Y}  She  turned  and  saw,  though 
she  could  hardly  recognize  in  the  pallid 
face  and  emaciated  form  before  her, 
Lieut.  Carter,  the  betrothed  of  her  cous- 
in, the  rebel  officer  whose  desertion  of 
his  country's  flag  had  caused  them  all  so 
much  unhappiness.  It  was  a  very  pain- 
ful meeting  to  Lilian,  and  her  first  im- 
pulse was  to  leave  the  room  instantly; 
but  death  was  stamped  on  every  feature 
of  the  young  man,  and  humanity  tri- 
umphed. She  approached  the  bedside, 
and  said  kindly, 

"  Mr.  Carter,  I  can  stay  but  a  moment. 
Is  there  any  thing  I  can  do  for  you,  or 
that  you  wish  to  say  to  me  ?" 


88         OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAB-TIME. 

The  sick  man  replied  bitterly, 

"I  see  how  it  is;  you  all  hate  and 
despise  me ;  but  I  cannot  help  it.  I  am 
a  Southerner,  and  would  not  desert  my 
brethren  in  arms  though  I  lost  every 
friend  on  earth.  What  I  have  done  I 
would  do  again  in  the  same  circum- 
stances." 

"You  are  wrong,  Hugh,"  said  Lilian, 
"  none  of  us  hate  or  despise  you,  though 
the  course  you  have  taken  has  almost 
broken  the  hearts  of  those  who  loved  you 
so  dearly." 

"And  who  love  me  no  longer,  you 
would  say.  Well,  I  knew  the  penalty 
when  I  put  on  this  uniform,  and  I  am 
not  going  now  to  complain  of  the  cost.  I 
hate  the  Yankees,"  he  exclaimed  with 
an  energy  of  which  he  seemed  incapable, 
"and  the  bitterest  thought  in  dying  is, 
that  Elinor  has  become  one  of  their  mis- 
erable canting  crew ;  but  they  have  lost 


nOW    THE    BOYS    CAME   HOME.  89 

Stanwood ;  he  at  least  is  true  to  the  bon- 
ny blue  flag.7' 

"Not  so,  Hugh.  Stanwood  has  seen 
his  error,  and  taken  the  oath  of  alle- 
giance at  Washington,  and  only  waits 
until  his  wounds  are  healed  to  go  home 
and  be  reconciled  to  his  family.77 

The  sick  man  turned  ghastly  pale  on 
hearing  this,  and  an  execration  rose  to 
his  lips,  which  was  suppressed  from  def- 
erence to  Lilian,  who  added, 

"You  are  very  ill,  Hugh,  and  thoughts 
like  these  are  not  suited  to  one  in  your 
condition.  Let  me  beg  you  to  see  the 
chaplain;  he  is  a  good  man,  and  will 
gladly  visit  you.77 

"Oh  spare  me  all  that  stereotyped 
nonsense,77  he  exclaimed.  "I  will  die  as 
I  have  lived,  without  the  aid  of  priest  or 
chaplain.  If  my  belief  is  correct,  I  do 
not  need  them ;  and  if  I  am  wrong,  it  is 
too  late  to  mend  the  mistake.     I  am  dy- 


90         OUR   VILLAGE    IN   WAR-TIME. 

ing,  and  you  know  it ;  but  I  will  at  least 
die  game :  no  whining  repentance  or 
hypocritical  confessions  for  Hugh  Car- 
ter." 

There  seemed  little  hope  of  doing  him 
any  good  in  such  a  state  of  mind,  and 
Lilian,  feeling  her  own  incompetency  to 
reply  to  him,  sadly  turned  away  and  left 
the  room,  while  memory  went  back  to 
other  days,  when  he  who  was  going  into 
eternity  without  one  ray  of  light  upon 
his  path,  had  been  to  her  almost  a  broth- 
er. There  was  a  shadow  on  her  bright 
face  as  she  went  back  to  her  patient,  who 
instantly  saw  it,  and  inquired  the  cause, 
when  she  related  the  scene  through  which 
she  had  just  passed.  Capt.  Lester  had 
formerly  known  Lieut.  Carter,  and  though 
no  bond  of  affinity  had  ever  drawn  the 
young  men  together,  he  was  greatly 
shocked  to  learn  his  present  condition. 

"I  must  see  him,  dear  Lilian/'  he  said ; 


HOW    THE   BOYS   CAME   HOME.  91 

"he  may  listen  to  me  when  he  would  not 
admit  a  clergyman.  It  is  too  dreadful  to 
let  him  die  so,  without  making  one  effort 
to  do  him  good.  Poor  Elinor,  how  could 
she  bear  this  ?77 

With  great  difficulty,  and  on  crutches, 
Capt.  Lester  made  his  way  to  the  bed- 
side of  the  wounded  officer ;  but  the  lat- 
ter refused  to  converse  with  him,  declar- 
ing that  his  mind  was  made  up,  and  he 
would  never  be  such  a  coward  as  to 
change  his  opinions  because  death  was 
at  hand.  In  vain  he  was  urged  to  listen 
to  God's  own  words  of  promise. 

"To  those  who  can  believe,  all  that  is 
well  enough;  as  for  me,  I  have  never 
feared  any  thing  in  life,  and  cannot  be- 
gin to  tremble  now." 

A  few  days  afterwards  he  died  in  the 
same  state  of  mind,  declaring  with  his 
latest  breath  that  he  asked  no  favors  at 
the  hands  of  God  or  man. 


92         OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

Elinor  was  informed  of  his  death,  but 
not  of  the  circumstances  attending  it; 
and  thus  she  was  spared  the  keenest 
pang  of  all — that  of  knowing  that  he 
whom  she  had  once  loved  and  trusted, 
died  without  hope. 

One  after  another  our  brave  boys  came 
back  to  us  from  the  hospitals,  wounded 
and  disabled,  some  maimed  for  life,  yet 
bating  no  tittle  of  courage  or  faith  in  the 
ultimate  triumph  of  the  good  cause.  A 
part  of  the  regiment  had  reenlisted  at 
the  expiration  of  their  term  of  service, 
and  were  with  us  for  a  few  days,  enjoy- 
ing the  sweets  of  domestic  life  after  their 
laborious  campaigns. 

It  was  during  their  stay  that  the  death 
of  little  Willie  occurred,  and  the  drum- 
mer-boy was  followed  to  his  grave  by 
many  of  those  who  knew  and  loved  him 
as  a  son  or  brother  in  the  camp.  There 
were  manly  tears  shed  around  his  grave  ; 


HOW   THE   BOYS   CAME   HOME.  93 

and  one  man  exclaimed,  as  the  coffin  was 
lowered  from  sight, 

"  There  goes  the  best  boy  I  ever  knew, 
and  I  do  n't  believe  he  has  left  his  like 
behind  him." 

The  first  snows  of  winter  had  fallen  on 
Willie's  grave  before  Capt.  Lester  came 
back  to  us,  with  his  sister  and  a  lady 
whom  we  had  loved  as  Lilian  Grey,  but 
were  now  to  know  as  Mrs.  Lester.  She 
was  well  aware  that  the  prejudices  of 
her  uncle  and  cousin  would  be  shocked 
hy  her  marriage  away  from  home  and  in 
a  hospital;  so  she  said  nothing  about  it 
in  her  letters,  believing  that  her  husband 
could  plead  his  own  cause  far  better  in 
person  than  she  could  do  by  writing. 
The  event  justified  her  expectations ;  for 
though  at  first  Mr.  Fenton  was  surprised 
and  angry,  the  reasons  given  by  Capt. 
Lester  and  the  persuasions  of  his  wife 
soon  reconciled  him,  and  even  forced  him 


94  OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

to  confess  that  it  was  probably  the  best 
thing  that  could  have  been  done  under 
the  circumstances.  Mrs.  Fen  ton,  how- 
ever, would  not  consent  to  part  with  her 
niece ;  so  Capt,  Lester  became  an  inmate 
of  the  family,  and  soon  won  the  affection 
of  all  its  members,  while  his  health  im- 
proved rapidly,  though  the  wound  in  his 
ankle  was  still  painful  and  troublesome. 

Soon  after  Capt.  Lester's  return,  there 
came  a  visitor  to  the  parsonage  whose 
arrival  was  warmly  welcomed  by  Mabel, 
though  it  caused  her  tears  to  flow  afresh. 
This  was  the  father  of  Lieut.  Wiley,  who- 
had  taken  the  journey  for  the  purpose 
of  becoming  acquainted  with  the  bride  of 
his  son,  now  doubly  endeared  to  him  by 
her  early  widowhood  and  sorrow. 

He  was  a  plain  New  England  farmer, 
cultivating  a  few  acres  of  hard  soil,  from 
which  he  managed  by  unceasing  indus- 
try to  gain  a  support  for  his  small  fam- 


nOW  THE  BOYS  CAME  HOME.    95 

ily ;  but  lie  was  rich  in  faith,  and  his  be- 
nevolence would  shame  that  of  many  a 
millionaire.  His  son  had  left  home  while 
still  very  young;  but  he  was  fondly  re- 
membered, and  his  loss  lamented  by  the 
aged  pair,  who  had  only  one  daughter 
left  to  be  the  stay  of  their  declining  years. 
Mr.  Wiley  went  from  house  to  house 
through  the  Beach  Hill  neighborhood, 
wherever  a  disabled  soldier  or  a  bereav- 
ed wife  or  mother  were  to  be  found, 
often  accompanied  by  Mabel,'  who  in  her 
mourning  garb  looked  so  pale  and  shad- 
owy that  we  almost  expected  to  see  her 
vanish  from  our  sight.  The  old  man 
loved  to  hear  and  talk  of  his  dead  son ; 
but  he  loved  still  more  to  speak  of  Him 
who  died  for  sinners,  and  of  the  heaven 
to  which  his  disciples  are  hastening.  It 
was  impossible  on  such  occasions  for  the 
most  careless  to  listen  unmoved;  and 
tears  were  often  seen  to  steal  down  the 


96  OUR  VILLAGE    IX  WAR-TIME. 

cheeks  of  bearded  men,  though  all  "un- 
used to  the  melting  mood,"  as  they  heard 
from  his  lips  the  story  so  often  told,  yet 
ever  new,  of  G-ethsemane  and  Calvary. 

The  visit  of  Mr.  Wiley  was  a  blessing 
to  many  souls  in  Woodbury,  and  espe- 
cially to  Mabel  and  Lilian,  both  of  whom 
made  a  public  profession  of  faith  in  Christ 
the  Sabbath  before  his  departure.  When 
he  left  for  home,  Mabel  and  her  mother 
went  with  him,  as  our  physician  recom- 
mended a  change  of  scene  for  the  former, 
whose  health  was  suffering  from  the 
shock  she  had  sustained. 

Capt.  Lester  had  now  so  far  recovered 
as  to  walk  with  only  the  assistance  of  a 
cane,  when,  one  evening  after  Lilian  had 
been  spending  the  day  with  me,  he  came 
in  bringing  a  large  package,  which  he 
threw  into  her  lap,  saying,  "Read  that, 
dear  wife,  and  then  tell  me  what  to  do.'J 

She  opened  the  envelope  and  found 


HOW  THE  BOYS  CAME  HOME.    9*1 

inclosed  a  commission  as  colonel  of  a 
veteran  regiment  then  being  raised,  with 
a  letter  in  which  nattering  mention  was 
made  of  Capt.  Lester's  services  in  the 
army,  and  the  estimation  in  which  he 
was  held  by  the  chief  magistrate  of  the 
state. 

Lilian's  eyes  sparkled  with  all  a  wife's 
pride  as  she  read  the  letter,  and  turning 
to  her  husband,  she  said,  u  There  ought 
to  be  but  one  cause  for  hesitation  on  such 
a  subject.  If  you  are  well  enough  to  go, 
you  cannot  doubt  for  a  moment  your 
duty  to  accept  it,  I  would  not  hold  you 
back,  if  I  could,  and  I  am  certain  that  I 
could  not,  if  I  would." 

"Thanks,  dear  Lilian;  I  knew  your 
brave  and  true  heart  would  cheer  me  on 
in  the  path  of  duty ;  but  I  have  been  a 
petted  invalid  so  long,  that  I  am  ashamed 
to  say  the  thought  of  leaving  all  I  love 
was  at  first  painful  to  me." 

Our  Village.  7 


98  OUR   VILLAGE    IN   WAR-TIME. 

"And  may  I  not  go  with  you?"  she 
inquired;  "you  know  how  well  I  can 
bear  hardships ;  and  I  assure  you  I  will 
take  care  that  you  shall  find  me  no  in- 
cumbrance.'1 

"That  you  could  never  be,  in  any 
case,"  was  his  reply;  "but  the  coming 
campaign  is  likely  to  be  a  fatiguing  and 
perilous  one,  and  besides,  I  must  not  set 
an  example  of  self-indulgence  to  the  regi- 
ment. It  would  never  do  for  the  colonel 
to  be  enjoying  the  society  of  his  wife, 
unless  he  grants  the  same  privilege  to 
the  other  officers,  and  in  that  case,  I  fear 
we  should  be  in  danger  of  losing  the 
name  of  the  'fighting  regiment,'  which 
the  veterans  have  so  nobly  earned."  • 

"I  submit,  as  in  duty  bound,  to  your 
decision ;  but  I  must  have  a  promise  that 
I  may  come  to  you  instantly,  if  at  any 
time  you  should  need  me." 

The  promise  was  readily  given,  and 


HOW  THE  BOYS  CAME  HOME.    99 

Lilian  smiled  through  her  tears  as  she 
playfully  pictured  his  helplessness,  when 
he  should  find  himself  thrown  once  more 
on  his  own  resources. 

"  I  know  you  have  almost  spoiled  me," 
he  replied  in  the  same  tone,  "but  the 
camp  is  a  good  school  in  which  to  learn 
to  endure  hardships  and  self-denial,  and 
I  am  not  likely  to  want  for  lessons  in  our 
present  service." 

Several  members  of  the  Twenty-sixth, 
when  they  found  that  Capt.  Lester  was 
to  have  the  command  of  a  regiment, 
were  transferred,  and  most  of  his  field 
and  line  officers  were  old  friends  and 
comrades,  so  we  bade  him  farewell  cheer- 
fully, though  his  health  was  not  fully  re- 
established. 

True  to  her  former  professions,  Lilian 
sent  him  forth  with  smiles  and  blessings  ; 
and  after  his  departure,  she  had  always 
a  word  of  comfort  and  cheer  for  those 


100       OUR   VILLAGE   IN   WAR-TIME. 

who  had  given  their  household  treasures 
to  the  cause  of  freedom.  But  the  few 
who  knew  her  intimately,  knew  that  she 
shed  bitter  tears  when  no  eye  but  that 
of  God  was  upon  her,  as  she  thought  of 
the  perils  by  which  he  was  surrounded, 
and  which  he  had  neither  the  power  nor 
the  wish  to  shun. 

The  regiment  commanded  by  Col.  Les- 
ter was  in  the  second  division  of  the 
Sixth  corps  in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac, 
and  was  stationed  near  the  enemy's  out- 
posts, so  that  picket-firing  and  skirmish- 
ing were  of  daily  occurrence,  though  there 
had  been  no  general  engagement  since 
the  battle  of  Gettysburg. 

That  grand  Army  of  the  Potomac  ; 
how  my  heart  thrills  as  I  think  or  write 
of  it!  Composed,  as  no  other  army  on 
earth  ever  was  made  up,  save  our  own 
noble  troops  of  the  West  and  South-west, 
of  the  very  flower  of  American  manhood, 


HOW  THE  BOYS  CAME   HOME.        101 

with  youth,  wealth,  intellect,  and  talent 
filling  its  ranks,  and  yet,  by  a  strange 
fatality,  doomed  to  experience  unmerited 
defeats  or  fruitless  victories,  it  has  wait- 
ed with  a  courage  and  patience  truly  sub- 
lime for  the  moment  of  triumph  which  is 
sure  to  come  at  last.  So  often  decima- 
ted, yet  never  subdued,  but  Antceus-like, 
gathering  fresh  vigor  from  every  disaster, 
they  have  not  always  been  able  to  com- 
mand success,  but  they  have  done  more ; 
for  they  have  deserved  it.  In  the  coming 
time,  when  this  fearful  war  shall  have 
passed  into  history,  and  our  children  are 
reaping  its  glorious  results,  it  will  be  a 
prouder  boast  than  that  of  royal  lineage 
to  have  the  right  to  say,  "My  father  was 
a  soldier  in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac." 


102       OUR    VILLAGE    IN   WAR-TIME. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS. 

I  had  been  absent  from  home  for  sev- 
eral weeks,  and  after  my  return,  sick- 
ness in  the  family  confined  me  closely, 
so  that  I  knew  little  of  what  had  been 
occurring  in  the  neighborhood.  Miss 
Letty,  through  whom  my  information  usu- 
ally came,  was  seldom  seen  abroad,  to 
the  great  surprise  and  inconvenience  of 
many  families  who  had  learned  to  look 
upon  her  frequent  visits  as  an  indispens- 
able part  of  their  domestic  arrangements. 

""What  has  happened  to  Miss  Letty ?" 
I  inquired  of  Lilian  Lester,  at  a  meeting 
of  our  Aid  Society,  as  I  noticed  the  look 
of  gravity  which  seemed  strangely  out 
of  place  on  her  countenance,  usually  so 
cheerful. 


LIGHTS   AND    SHADOWS.  103 

"I  am  not  aware  of  any  cause  for  it," 
Lilian  replied,  "  and  yet  she  certainly 
does  look  as  if  she  were  carrying  a  weight 
of  care.  Dear  Miss  Letty,  I  hope  noth- 
ing has  happened  to  trouble  her,  for  she 
is  so  kind  and  unselfish  that  she  ought  to 
be  very  happy." 

As  I  left  the  house,  Miss  Letty  came 
up,  and  proposed  to  accompany  me  home, 
an  offer  which  I  gladly  accepted,  for  it 
was  evident  that  there  was  something 
she  wished  to  communicate,  and  I  hoped, 
by  sharing  her  anxieties,  to  alleviate 
them.  We  walked  for  a  few  steps  in 
silence,  and  then  my  companion,  in  an 
embarrassed  tone,  very  different  from 
her  ordinary  manner,  inquired, 

"Mrs.  Glenn,  have  you  ever  seen  Mr. 
Thurston  when  he  has  been  here  preach- 
ing for  Mr.  Ryder  ?" 

"Mr.  Thurston,"  I  repeated;  "is  he 
the  home  missionary  stationed  at  M , 


104       OUR  VILLAGE   IN   WAR-TIME. 

among  the  mountains?  If  so,  I  have  seen 
him,  and  heard  him  preach ;  but  why  do 
you  ask  that  question?'' 

Strange  to  say,  I  had  not  a  suspicion 
of  the  state  of  affairs,  notwithstanding 
the  confusion  of  my  companion,  for  I  had 
never  heard  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Thurs- 
ton's wife,  and  therefore  was  not  likely 
to  think  of  him  in  connection  with  Miss 
Letty. 

"Why,"  she  said,  "I  only  wanted  to 
know  whether  you  had  ever  seen  him, 
and  how  you  liked  him,  if  you  had;  for 
you  see  he  has  been  over  here  several 
times  lately,  and  called  on  me  with  Mr. 
Eyder,  and— pshaw,  how  silly  I  am — 
well,  he  has  asked  me  to  marry  him." 

Miss  Letty  actually  blushed  like  a 
young  girl  as  she  made  this  confession, 
which  took  me  so  utterly  by  surprise, 
that  for  a  moment  I  had  not  a  word  to 
say. 


LIGHTS   AND   SHADOWS.  105 

"I  see  you  are  astonished  at  it,  and  no 
wonder ;  I  told  him  that  everybody  would 
wonder  that  he  should  offer  himself  to  me, 
a  seamstress,  and  without  one  cent  of 
money  in  the  world ;  but  he  only  smiled, 
and  said  he  wanted  a  wife  for  himself, 
and  not  to  suit  the  public ;  that  he  did  n't 
want  a  young  girl,  nor  a  rich  wife  either, 
to  look  down  on  him  and  his  poor  peo- 
ple." 

''You  are  mistaken,"  I  replied;  "it 
is  n't  that  which  surprised  me,  but  I  had 
never  heard  that  he  was  a  widower ;  and 
then  the  thought  of  losing  you  is  some- 
thing so  new,  and  not  very  pleasant,  I 
assure  you.  What  shall  we  do  without 
you  ?" 

"I  thought  of  that,"  was  the  reply, 
for  Miss  Letty  had  too  much  simplicity 
of  character  to  pretend  to  be  ignorant  of 
her  importance  in  the  community,  though 
she  was  truly  humble  in  her  estimate  of 


106       OUR   VILLAGE    IN   WAR-TIME. 

herself;  "and  I  told  Mr.  Thurston  I  had 
been  here  so  long,  and  had  got  so  into 
the  habit  of  doing  every  thing  for  every- 
body, that  I  was  afraid  they  'd  miss  me 
a  good  deal.  But  he  said  if  that  was  the 
case,  I  was  just  the  one  for  a  poor  min- 
ister, who  had  to  contrive  to  make  ends 
meet,  and  that  his  children  needed  me 
more  than  the  folks  in  Woodbury  did. 
You  see  he  just  brushed  awa}^  all  my  ob- 
jections like  so  many  cobwebs,  so  that  I 
couldn't  say  another  word." 

"I  am  glad  he  seems  to  appreciate 
your  worth ;  if  we  must  give  you  up,  it 
will  be  a  comfort  to  know  that  you  are 
happy." 

"Oh,  as  to  that  I  don't  know;  I  sap- 
pose  people  at  my  age  have  n't  very  ro- 
mantic notions  of  happiness ;  I  'm  sure  I 
have  n't;  but  if  I  can  do  any  good  to  one 
of  the  Lord's  servants,  I  shall  be  glad. 
But  when  I  think  how  much  will  be  ex- 


LIGHTS   AND    SHADOWS.  107 

pected  of  me,  I  am  so  frightened  I  feel 
like  giving  it  all  right  up.  You  see,  when 
I  was  a  child  they  did  n't  care  much  about 
education  in  our  town,  and  though  I  've 
picked  up  some  ideas  here  and  there  go- 
ing through  the  world,  I  don't  know  very 
much.  Then  I  'm  plain  and  homely  in  my 
ways,  and  1 'm  afraid  he  '11  be  ashamed 
of  me  some  time  when  he  sees  me  by  the 
side  of  other  ministers'  wives ;  but  when 
I  told  him  so  he  only  laughed,  and  said 
if  that  was  all  my  difficulty,  he  should 
look  on  it  as  settled ;  so  I  had  to  say  yes, 
for  he  would  n't  hear  to  any  thing  else." 
I  said  every  thing  in  my  power  to  en- 
courage Miss  Letty,  for  I  felt  that  Mr. 
Thurston  had  made  a  wise  choice  for  him- 
self and  his  children,  and  that  our  little 
seamstress,  with  her  fund  of  good  sense, 
energy,  and  activity,  and  above  all,  with 
her  unwavering  trust  in  God,  would  make 
a  far  better  wife  for  a  clergyman  than 


108        OUR  VILLAGE  IN  WAR-TIME. 

many  an  educated  and  refined  woman 
who  was  deficient  in  these  qualities,  as 
too  many  are. 

"And  how  soon  are  we  to  lose  you?" 
I  inquired;  "I  trust  not  immediately; 
you  must  give  us  a  little  time  to  be- 
come reconciled  to  the  thought  of  such  a 
change." 

"Mr.  Thurston  is  very  anxious  that  I 
should  go  right  away;  he  says  he  has 
been  alone  so  long,  and  his  children  need 
me  so  much ;  but  I  told  him  I  must  see 
to  the  work  I  had  on  hand,  so  as  to  leave 
you  all  comfortable,  or  I  should  n't  be 
easy  in  my  mind  about  going.  It  ;s  hard 
to  leave  such  friends  as  I  have  got  here, 
and  to  go  away  from  dear  little  "Willie's 
grave  too ;  but  Mr.  Ryder  seems  to  think 
it  is  my  duty  to  go,  because  there  are  so 
few  that  would  be  willing  to  take  such  a 
place.  I  do  n't  see  how  that  can  be,  for 
I  ;m  sure  Mr.  Thurston  is  one  of  the  best 


LIGHTS   AND    SHADOWS.  109 

of  men,  and  I  think  any  woman  might  be 
happy  with  him." 

From  the  earnestness  with  which  this 
was  said,  I  saw  that  Miss  Letty  was  re- 
ally interested  in  the  good  minister,  and 
not  about  to  sacrifice  herself  from  a  sense 
of  duty  merely;  and  I  was  glad  to  be- 
lieve this,  for  I  feared  she  might  not  be 
as  comfortable  under  her  new  responsi- 
bilities as  she  had  been  in  Woodbury. 

The  wedding  took  place  in  church  ; 
and  after  an  hour  or  two  spent  at  the 
parsonage,  where  the  friends  of  the  bride 
called  to  offer  their  congratulations  and 
to  bid  her  good-by,  the  happy  pair  left 
for  their  mountain  home,  from  whence 
we  have  repeatedly  heard  of  the  new 
Mrs.  Thurston,  as  useful  and  beloved 
beyond  any  of  her  predecessors  in  that 
place. 

Mrs.  Fenton  had  been  for  months  rap- 
idly failing,  and  her  symptoms  were  now 


110        OUR  VILLAGE    IN  WAR-TIME. 

such  as  to  indicate  a  speedy  release  from 
her  sufferings.  She  was  intensely  anx- 
ious to  see  her  long-absent  son  once  more 
on  earth,  and  this  strong  maternal  feeling 
seemed  actually  to  hold  back  the  spirit, 
already  pluming  its  wings  for  flight.  "I 
shall  not  die  till  I  have  seen  him  again," 
was  her  constant  reply  to  the  inquiries 
of  her  friends.  "He  will  come  in  time 
to  receive  my  parting  breath,  and  I  am 
content." 

Stanwood  Fenton  had  never  recovered 
from  the  wound  received  at  South  Moun- 
tain, and  after  months  of  terrible  agony, 
had  recently  been  obliged  to  submit  to 
amputation  of  the  hand  as  the  only  means 
of  saving  his  life.  He  was  now  recover- 
ing slowly,  and  had  been  sent  to  the  con- 
valescent camp,  when  a  letter  from  Eli- 
nor informed  him  of  the  condition  of  his 
mother.  In  spite  of  the  remonstrances 
of  his  physicians  he  obtained,  through 


LIGHTS   AND   SHADOWS.  Ill 

the  influence  of  Col.  Lester,  a  dismissal 
from  the  camp,  and  started  for  home  un- 
der the  care  of  Capt.  May,  a  former  mem- 
ber of  the  Twenty-sixth,  and' now  com- 
mander of  a  company  in  Col.  Lester's 
regiment,  who  had  a  furlough  in  conse- 
quence of  ill  health. 

Mrs.  Fenton  had  seemed  to  be  in  a 
dying  state  for  several  hours,  but  her 
frequent  inquiries  showed  us  that  she  still 
expected  the  arrival  of  her  son,  though 
no  word  had  reached  her  of  his  intention 
to  start  for  home. 

"  It  is  my  only  earthly  care,"  she  said, 
"and  I  think  my  Father  will  grant  me 
this  request." 

She  had  been  apparently  sleeping/  and 
all  was  perfectly  still  in  and  around  the 
house,  when  suddenly  starting  and  open- 
ing her  eyes,  she  exclaimed,  "He  is  com- 
ing ;  I  hear  the  wheels ;  he  is  almost  here ; 
thank  God." 


112        OUR  VILLAGE    IN  WAR-TIME. 

None  of  us  could  hear  a  sound ;  but 
the  mother's  ears,  quickened  by  affection, 
caught  the  distant  rumbling,  though  the 
moment  b*efore  death  seemed  -  about  to 
close  them  for  ever.  A  few  moments 
brought  the  carriage  to  the  door,  and 
Elinor  and  Lilian  flew  to  meet  and  wel- 
come the  returning  wanderer. 

"Is  my  mother  still  living ?''  was  his 
first  inquiry ;  and  on  receiving  an  answer 
in  the  affirmative,  the  strength  which  had 
sustained  him  on  the  way  suddenly  de- 
serted him.  He  sank  into  a  chair,  and 
covering  his  face,  gave  way  for  a  few 
moments  to  the  emotions  which  shook 
his  frame,  while  Elinor  threw  her  arms 
around  his  neck,  and  wept  silently.  But 
Lilian,  who  knew  the  anxiety  of  her  dy- 
ing aunt,  said  tenderly, 

"Dear  cousin,  this  will  never  do. 
Think  of  your  mother,  whose  life  is  now 
counted  by  moments,  and  who  is  waiting 


LIGHTS   AND   SHADOWS.  113 

for  you.  All  your  strength  will  be  need- 
ed for  this  interview,  and  you  must  be 
calm,  since  agitation  might  be  instantly 
fatal  to  her.7' 

"I  know  it,"  was  his  reply,  "and  you 
shall  see  me  a  man  again  soon ;  but  I 
have  feared  the  worst  all  the  way  home, 
and  the  revulsion  of  feeling  overcame 
me  at  first.  May  you  never  know,  dear 
girls,  what  it  is  to  have  remorse  added 
to  the  sorrow  of  such  an  hour  as  this." 

The  interview  between  the  dying  moth- 
er and  her  erring,  but  penitent  son,  was 
witnessed  only  by  members  of  the  fam- 
ily ;  and  at  its  close,  she  was  so  exhausted 
as  to  be  almost  insensible.  But  the  lamp 
of  life  burned  up  brightly  once  more  be- 
fore going  out  for  ever.  She  bade  us  all 
farewell,  with  a  few  tender  and  appro- 
priate words  to  each ;  then  turning  to  her 
son,  who  was  kneeling  at  the  bedside,  with 
his  face  buried  in  the  pillows,  she  said, 

Our  Village.  8 


114       OUR  VILLAGE   IN   WAR-TIME. 

as  she  laid  her  cold  hand  upon  his  head, 
"My  dear  boy,  I  once  asked  for  you  in 
my  blindness  length  of  days  and  temporal 
prosperity.  Now  I  trust  I  have  sought 
better  things  of  God  for  you  ;  but  you 
must  seek  him  for  yourself,  or  you  will  nev- 
er see  his  face  in  peace.  With  my  dyiug 
breath  I  charge  you,  make  it  the  busi- 
ness of  your  life  to  meet  me  in  heaven.*'' 

After  a  few  loving  words  to  her  hus- 
band, Elinor,  and  Lilian,  with  a  kind 
message  to  Col.  Lester,  she  said,  in  a 
voice  clear  and  distinct  as  in  health, 

"I  wish  to  give  it  as  my  dying  testi- 
mony to  all  here  present,  that -not  one 
good  thing  has  ever  failed  in  my  experi- 
ence, of  all  that  the  Lord  has  spoken. 
The  religion  of  the  Bible  has  been  to  me 
an  infinite  blessing.  I  have  lived  on  it 
for  years,  and  it  has  supported  me  in 
suffering  and  sorrow,  and  now  I  am  dy- 
ing in  perfect  peace  ;  for  Jesus  is  with 


LIGHTS   AND   SHADOWS.  115 

me,  and  his  rod  and  staff,  they  comfort 
me." 

Her  voice  died  away,  but  the  smile  on 
her  countenance  was  like  the  dawn  of 
heaven  in  its  brightness  ;  and  it  may 
have  been  the  reflection  of  that  radiance, 
for  before  her  words  had  ceased  to  echo 
in  that  hushed  chamber,  the  spirit  had 
escaped  from  its  wasted  tenement,  and 
was  already  rejoicing  before  the  throne 
of  God. 

Col.  Lester  came  home  to  see  her  bur- 
ied, but  stayed  only  a  few  days,  as  active 
service  was  soon  expected.  He  was  in 
good  health,  and  seemed  very  happy,  and 
as  Lilian  was  to  return  with  him  to  Wash- 
ington, there  was  nothing  to  mar  her  en- 
joyment of  his  brief  visit.  After  their 
departure,  Elinor  and  her  brother  were 
very  lonely,  and  Capt.  May,  whose  leave 
of  absence  had  been  extended,  was  a  fre- 
quent visitor  at  the  Tyrrell  House,  and 


116       OUK  VILLAGE   IN  WAK-TIME. 

a  great  favorite  with  all  its  inmates,  from 
Mr.  Fenton  down  to  Mammy  Yenus,  and 
Pete  recently  promoted  to  the  dignity 
of  coachman. 

To  know  Elinor  Fenton  intimately  was 
to  love  her,  and  the  young  soldier  found, 
before  he  had  dreamed  of  danger,  that 
his  heart  was  no  longer  in  his  own  pos- 
session. He  could  not  with  propriety 
make  known  his  feelings  to  Elinor  so 
soon  after  her  bereavement,  but  from  his 
friend  Stanwood  he  received  all  the  en- 
couragement which  a  brother's  best  wish- 
es could  give ;  and  when  lie  rejoined  his 
regiment,  he  carried  with  him  a  hope 
which  brightened  his  darkest  hours,  and 
made  every  hardship  seem  light. 

Young  Fenton  had  been  at  home  but 
a  few  months  before  he  became  a  univer- 
sal favorite,  as  we  discovered  the  acqui- 
sition we  had  made  in  his  society.  He 
was  ardent,  impulsive,  and  generous  even 


LIGHTS   AND   SHADOWS.  117 

to  a  fault,  and  possessed  the  best  traits 
of  Southern  character,  with  an  ingenuous 
frankness  peculiarly  his  own.  Often  led 
astray  by  the  warmth  of  his  feelings,  he 
was  quick  to  perceive  and  retract  his 
errors,  and  eager  to  make  reparation  for 
them.  It  was  impossible  to  associate  with 
Stanwood  Fenton  without  being  con- 
stantly reminded  of  the  Saviour's  remark 
to  the  young  man  who  came  to  him,  and 
who  awoke  so  (Jeep  an  interest  in  his  be- 
nevolent heart:  "One  thing  thou  lack- 
est."  Deep  religious  principle  was  the 
one  thing  wanting  in  his  character,  the 
balance-wheel  without  which  his  move- 
ments were  erratic  and  uncertain,  guided 
rather  by  the  impulse  of  the  moment 
than  by  any  sense  of  accountability  to 
God. 

His  original  plan  had  been  to  enter  the 
Union  army  as  soon  as  possible  after  the 
death  of  his  mother,  but  his  health  had 


118       OUR   VILLAGE    IN   WAR-TIME. 

suffered  greatly  from  long  confinement  in 
the  hospital ;  and  the  loss  of  his  hand, 
together  with  the  entreaties  of  his  father 
and  sister,  induced  him  to  relinquish  the 
idea,  and  devote  himself  to  the  care  of 
his  father's  business,  which  had  suffered 
from  neglect.  The  light  came  back  to 
Elinor's  eye,  and  the  bloom  to  her  cheek, 
as  she  saw  her  brother  once  more  in  his 
proper  place  at  home;  and  though  her 
beloved  mother  was  still*  fondly  remem- 
bered and  her  loss  deplored,  it  was  with 
a  chastened  sorrow,  as  she  felt  that  for 
her  to  die  had  been  great  gain. 

Winter,  with  its  storms  and  sunshine, 
its  triumphs  and  reverses,  wore  away  at 
length,  and  with  the  first  blossoms  of 
May  Lilian  came  back  to  us,  more  wel- 
come to  our  hearts  than  the  breath  of 
spring  or  the  fragrance  of  forest  flowers. 
She  was  accompanied  by  Captain,  now 
Major  May,  who  was  on  the  staff  of  Gen. 


LIGHTS   AND    SHADOWS.  119 

Lester,  and  who  eagerly  availed  himself 
of  an  opportunity  to  revisit  the  spot 
where  his  earthly  hopes  were  centred. 
During  her  stay  at  the  head-quarters  of 
her  husband,  Lilian  had  learned  to  ap- 
preciate the  worth  of  the  young  aide-de- 
camp, and  ardently  hoped  he  might  be 
successful  in  his  suit.  Why  should  I 
narrate  the  progress  of  events  ?  It  was 
the  same  old  story  repeated  once  again, 
a  tale  as  old  as  the  history  of  the  race, 
yet  new  in  the  experience  of  every  hu- 
man heart— the  story  of  faithful  love 
meeting  its  reward  at  last  in  the  affection 
of  the  beloved  object.  As  Elinor  heard 
from  her  cousin  the  recital  of  the  gallant 
exploits  of  Major  May,  of  his  courage  and 
devoted  loyalty,  she  loved  him  not  only 
"for  the  perils  he  had  passed,'7  but  for 
the  high  principle  which  had  thus  far 
shielded  him  from  the  peculiar  tempta- 
tions of  a  soldier's  life ;  and  before  his 


120        OUR   TILLAGE    IN   WAR-TIME. 

departure  lie  won  from  her  a  promise, 
that  when  the  war  was  ended,  or  his 
term  of  service  expired,  he  might  claim 
his  reward. 

Months  have  passed,  and  still  the  cloud 
of  war  overshadows  the  land,  and  still 
our  beloved  ones  are  absent  from  us, 
some  with  the  heroic  Sherman  in  North- 
ern Georgia,  'scaling  the  heights  of  Ken- 
esaw  and  Lookout  mountains,  and  driv- 
ing the  eagle  from  his  eyrie,  as  they  plant 
the  stars  and  stripes  among  the  clouds ; 
some  are  in  the  sultry  swamps  and  bay- 
ous of  Louisiana,  exposed  to  a  foe  more 
insidious  and  deadly  than  the  rebel  ar- 
mies; and  others,  among  whom  are  our 
best  and  bravest,  are  swelling  the  ranks 
which  threaten  the  Confederate  capital. 

"  The  time  has  come  when  brothers  must  fight 
And  sisters  must  pray  at  home." 

But  while  we  look  up  to  Him  who 
alone  can  send  help  and  deliverance,  it 


LIGHTS   AND   SHADOWS.  121 

is  our  privilege  to  labor  as  well  as  to 
pray,  and  while  we  wait  upon  Gocl,  to 
watch  for  every  opportunity  of  doing 
whatever  our  hands  find  to  do  in  the 
good  cause,  with  our  whole  heart. 

The  heavens  are  dark  above  us,  and 
the  earth  rocks  wildly  under  our  feet, 
but  God  has  a  divine  purpose  underlying 
all  these  convulsions,  and  it  is  fixed  and 
immutable  as  his  throne.  Faith  sees  in 
the  overturnings  around  us  the  majestic 
march  of  his  providence,  preparing  a 
way  in  the  tempest,  and  making  the 
wrath  of  man  to  praise  him,  while  he 
restrains  the  remainder  thereof. 

It  is  good  for  us  sometimes,  when  hope 
deferred  makes  the  heart  sick,  to  go  back 
to  first  principles,  that  we  may  gather 
strength  from  a  review  of  our  past  history 
and  of  God's  dealings  with  us  as  a  nation. 

The  American  republic  was  unique  in 
its   inception   and    establishment.     The 


122       OUR  VILLAGE   IN  WAR-TIME. 

pilgrim  band  who  came  to  New  England 
in  the  Mayflower  were  not  a  company  of 
commercial  adventurers,  led  hither  by  the 
hope  of  gain ;  still  less  were  they  a  party  of 
military  freebooters,  actuated  by  the  lust 
of  conquest,  like  the-  Spaniards,  who  car- 
ried fire  and  sword  among  the  unoffend- 
ing inhabitants  of  Southern  America. 
The  principle  which  led  those  noble  men 
and  women  to  forsake  kindred  and  home, 
and  to  brave  the  perils  of  a  howling  wil- 
derness, and  which  sustained  them  amid 
all  their  privations  and  sufferings,  was 
not  earthly  or  perishable.  It  was  the 
burning,  quenchless  thirst  for  religious 
liberty,  the  strong  determination  to  wor- 
ship God  according  to  the  dictates  ot 
their  own  conscience,  though  the  roof  of 
their  temple  were  the  boundless  sky  and 
their  altar  the  rough  stones  of  the  forest, 
that  actuated  the  founders  of  this  repub- 
lic in  their  sublime  enterprise. 


LIGHTS   AND   SHADOWS.  123 

They  came  to  these  wilds  of  nature 
that  they  might  found  a  colony  and  build 
up  a  church,  and  advance  the  interests 
of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom,  and  serve 
as  stepping-stones  to  others  in  the  great 
work  of  human  progress.  And  never 
has  the  divine  declaration,  ''Them  that 
honor  me  I  will  honor,"  been  more  sig- 
nally fulfilled  than  in  the  growth  of  the 
infant  nation  thus  established.  Every 
step  of  the  way  in  which,  as  a  people, 
we  have  been  led,  from  the  landing  on 
Plymouth  rock  to  the  proud  position 
which  we  have  hitherto  occupied  among 
the  nations,  has  been  marked  by  special 
interpositions  of  Providence,  no  less  real, 
though  less  miraculous,  than  the  pillar  of 
cloud  and  flame  which  guided  the  ancient 
Israelites  to  the  land  of  promise. 

But  in  our  prosperity  we  have  forgot- 
ten the  Pock  whence  we  were  hewn,  and 
have  rebelled  against  our  father's  God, 


124       OUR   VILLAGE    IN   WAR-TIME. 

and  refused  to  obey  his  commands,  until 
in  his  righteous  indignation  he  has  come 
out  in  judgment  against  us,  and  left  us  to 
our  own  ways  and  to  eat  the  fruit  of  our 
own  devices.  As  a  nation  we  have 
deeply  sinned.  As  a  nation  we  are  suf- 
fering a  fearful  punishment. 

But  let  not  the  enemies  of  liberty  in 
the  old  world  or  the  new,  exult  in  the 
belief  that  the  republic  is  about  to  be 
rent  in  fragments,  and  the  last  hope  of 
the  oppressed  millions  of  Europe  to  be 
for  ever  entombed.  We  are  bearing  the 
indignation  of  the  Lord  because  we  have 
sinned  against  him;  but  when  his  pur- 
poses concerning  us  are  accomplished, 
he  will  arise  to  execute  judgment  for 
us. 

No  careful  observer  of  God's  provi- 
dence can  doubt  that  he  has  reserved 
America  for  a  grand  destiny — that  our 
country  has  a  mission  to  perform  of  the 


LIGHTS   AND   SHADOWS.  125 

sublimest  import,  and  a  grand  agency  to 
exert  in  the  regeneration  of  the  world. 

If  we  read  aright  the  divine  purpose 
in  reference  to  this  nation,  and  the  his- 
torical causes  here  concentrating,  we 
must  believe  that  the  vital  forces  inher- 
ent in  our  government  and  institutions 
will,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  master  all 
the  antagonisms  now  threatening  their 
overthrow ;  and  that,  having  passed 
through  this  baptism  of  blood  and  fire, 
we  shall  emerge  cleansed  and  purified, 
^nd  stand  as  a  beacon  light  to  the  strug- 
gling nations  of  the  old  world,  until  suf- 
fering humanity  everywhere,  regenerat- 
ed and  redeemed,  shall  rejoice  in  one 
grand  jubilee  of  liberty,  Christianity, 
and  universal  brotherhood. 


Beautiful!  BQQfes 

FOR  CHILDREN  AND  YOUTH. 

AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY,  150  NASSAU-STREET, 
NEW  YORK. 


Flowers  of  Spring-tiine.  Combining  amusement  and 
instruction  in  most  attractive  forms.  One  hundred  and 
fifty  Engravings.     Quarto  size. 

Home  Scenes.  An  elegant  small  quarto  for  the  family, 
•with  fourteen  photographic  pictures,  fac-similes  of  fino 
Engravings. 

Yiews  from  Nature.  Forty  scenes  in  nature  and  art 
Finely  printed  in  tint. 

Songs  for  the  Little  Ones  at  Home.  Attractive  as 
ever.     Beautifully  illustrated. 

Lullabies,  Ditties,  and  Tales.  Original  short  Poems 
for  the  Children,  Containing  Tales,  Songs,  and  Dialogues. 
With  eighty-four  Engravings. 

Home  Pictures,     72  pages.     A  fine  Cut  on  each  page. 

My  Picture-book.     64  page's.     Sixty-one  Engravings. 

Fireside  Pictures.  64  pages.  With  a  Cut  on  each 
page. 

The  Illustrated  Tract  Primer.  The  Children's  favor- 
ite.    Finely  Illustrated. 

FOR  SALE  AT  150  NASSAU-STREET,  NEW  YORK  ; 
40  Cornhell,  BOSTON  ;  1210  Chestnut-street,  PHIL- 
ADELPHIA ;  75  State-street,  ROCHESTER;  163 
Walnut-street,  CINCINNATI ;  and  in  other  cities  and 
principal  towns. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
769 


